You Can't Take Me
by ArabianNights18
Summary: When the darkness of Dol Guldur spreads north to the elven kingdom, Legolas is sent to find out why. He seeks the help of a hermit in the Mountains of Mirkwood, a lady with her own dark history. The prince's quest to rid Mirkwood of this new evil becomes entwined with his quest to bring Lady Dimoriel out of her self-imposed exile. LegolasXOC
1. Chapter 1

_Greetings readers! I am curious how some of my other Legolas stories will be received, so I am posting this chapter to gauge reader interest. If it is well received, I may start posting more chapters. But for that to happen, I need reviews! It is my motivation. I will also post the first chapter of another story (my sad attempt at humor) in the near future as well. Without further ado, here is chapter 1. Enjoy!_

* * *

Legolas was walking through the market on a cool morning in late October when he saw him. The most beautiful horse he had ever laid eyes on. He couldn't explain why, but he was immediately drawn to the remarkable creature. Its colorings were not unusual, as it had a dark red coat with a black mane and tail. He walked towards it, unaware of his friend Duarthon calling out his name.

As he approached, the elf and the horse stared at each other. Upon reaching the corral where the horse stood, he unconsciously reached out his hand to scratch the creature's nose.

"Ah, Prince Legolas, what brings you to my stables this morning?"

"Good morning, Turechion. This is a remarkable looking horse."

"He is indeed. His sire is supposedly a descendant of the Mearas. Though I cannot confirm that claim, he and his ancestors have been known to live remarkably long lives and tend to have an unusually high intelligence. This one is called Sulinte, and he is a handful but a fine horse all the same."

"Is he for sale?" Legolas asked, looking around as Duarthon finally caught up to him.

"I am sorry, my lord, but he was bred specifically for someone else. I am afraid you would have to take up the issue with her."

"Who is this lady and where can I find her? Will she be coming to get him today?"

"I don't think she will be coming today, for she usually comes down early in the morning, before most elves are out and about. The lady you must speak with is Dimoriel, the lady of the mountains."

"You mean the lady who lives in solitude to the south?" Duarthon asked, his brow furrowed at the news.

"The very same. She will likely come north next weekend and be here shortly after dawn to fetch him."

"Do you think she will be willing to sell him?" Legolas asked, looking up at the horse in front of him.

"I think you have a better chance of having autumn revert back into summer," Turechion said flatly. "But it is worth trying if you are interested, my lord. If she will sell him, be prepared to pay a hefty price."

* * *

The following weekend, Legolas and Duarthon sat huddled in their cloaks as a cold rain drizzled down on them. Duarthon was not happy.

"She better come this weekend. I do not want to sit here in the rain for nothing."

"I am sure she'll come," Turechion said appearing from the barn behind them. "She'll be happy of the rain. Less people will be in the market." He paused looking at the two elves sitting on the fence.

"Do you want to come into the barn where it's dry?" Turechion asked, gesturing behind him.

"Yes!" Duarthon said enthusiastically, hopping off the fence. But as Legolas made to follow, he noticed a cloaked figure riding towards them at a gallop.

"Good morning, Dimoriel!" Turechion said cheerfully, looking up at the elleth before him. Her hood was up and she was turned away from him, so Legolas could not see her face.

"I am here for Sulinte," she said, ignoring pleasantries. "How is he looking?"

"He will be a fine stallion, like his father," Turechion said, looking at Dimoriel's horse, who was the same deep red, but also with a red mane.

"Excellent," Dimoriel said, ignoring Legolas and Duarthon. "I will take him now then."

"Excuse me," Legolas said, interjecting quickly. "I was wondering if I could perhaps convince you to sell this horse to me." He indicated Sulinte as Turechion brought him out. Dimoriel turned to look at him. Her face was emotionless, from her thin lips to her grey-green eyes.

"If I sell him to you, I will not have a horse to ride," Dimoriel said, turning away again. Turechion was leading the young horse out of the corral, as Dimoriel whispered a soft word to her mount, which trotted into the corral.

"Is there nothing I can offer you in exchange? Perhaps you can get a different horse. I can give you three for this one if it would please you."

"It would not," Dimoriel said, patting her new mount's neck. "I have no need for three horses, and I have waited several years for this one. His mother kept producing fillies."

Legolas opened his mouth to provide another offer, but he saw a shadow moving towards him rapidly, and he shrunk away, his warrior instinct kicking in as his hand went to his knife. He was astonished as a large hawk alighted on Dimoriel's shoulder and shook the rain off its feathers. Dimoriel made no acknowledgement it was there. Turechion, however, smiled.

"Ah, there is Lendis. How has she been?"

"Well enough. She nested last spring, which was unexpected. Nice young hawks though."

"What do you want in exchange for Sulinte?" Legolas asked, growing anxious as Dimoriel mounted once more. She paused, looking down at him.

"Even you, Prince Legolas, can offer me nothing that would make me give up this horse. Perhaps you can wait a few years and get another from the same parents, now that Turechion has both. Good day." She swiftly rode away, leaving Legolas with a frown and Duarthon with a scowl.

"So we did wait in the rain for nothing. She even knew who you were and ignored you."

"Can you breed another horse?" Legolas asked Turechion, who was leading the red stallion inside.

"Of course. Though the mother tends to drop fillies, so you may end up with a mare."

"It is worth a try," Legolas said. He was frustrated that he had lost the beautiful horse. He hoped his luck would present him with another.

* * *

It took several years, but Legolas's patience was rewarded when Turechion informed him that another red stallion had been born. It was not quite as beautiful as the first, having the same red mane and tail as his sire, and a white star patch on his forehead, but Legolas was happy, and named him Caranghir.

It was about the time Caranghir turned four that a dark shadow began to fall on Greenwood the Great. Worried, King Thranduil called his son to him to discuss the problem.

"There are whispers in the trees that evil is spreading up from the south," Thranduil said, looking across his desk at Legolas. The latter could see the worry in his father's eyes. "Some dark magic is killing the plants and animals. Take Duarthon and head south. See if you can uncover anything. Talk to the forest people. Radagast must know something. And perhaps Lady Dimoriel will have news as well."

Legolas was surprised when his father brought up the lady. He remembered her mannerisms from when they had met briefly. He wasn't sure she would be willing to do anything to help.

"I think Lady Dimoriel may not be very cooperative," he said honestly.

"It is worth a try. She has lived on her own in those mountains long enough, she must know more about the southern wild than any of us here in the north. At least ask if she has any information that may be useful."

"Yes, sir," Legolas said, standing to leave.

"Good luck," Thranduil said, watching as his son departed on this grim task.

* * *

"She must live around here somewhere," Duarthon said, standing up. He had just been examining an ancient path near the base of the mountains, and noticed hoof prints that were only a few days old.

"I suppose we should follow this path into the mountains," Legolas said, riding forward as Duarthon mounted. The elves followed the thin trail as it wound upward, moving out of the leafy trees into hearty pines that grew out of rocky crevices. More than once, they had to jump over fast moving streams that plummeted off the mountainside mere feet away in steep waterfalls.

"I can see why she lives here," Duarthon said as they left behind a particularly large waterfall, which had carved out a cave behind it large enough for the horses to pass through. "It is breathtaking, isn't it?" Legolas merely nodded as they continued through a mountain pass.

They had climbed over a thousand feet up the mountain before they saw real evidence of the lady's passing. Rocky ledges stuck out in natural terraces, which had evidence of cultivation, with all sorts of wild plants growing together. Fruit trees which would never have grown so high up were flourishing along the sides of the path as it widened and flattened out, moving along the side of the mountain instead of continuing upward.

"Do you hear that?" Legolas said, stopping suddenly. Duarthon paused, listen closely.

"Probably just the wind," he said, catching the faint sound.

"Sounds like a flute," Legolas said, continuing forward. As they rounded a corner and began heading into a ravine, the sound grew. It was definitely a flute. Shortly, the two elves passed below a natural stone arch that opened into a flat, filled with wild plant life growing in every direction.

On a cut tree trunk sat Dimoriel, her eyes shut as she played a reed flute, her legs stretched out in front of her. Her brown hair hung down in wild curls, feathers sticking out at odd intervals. She wore a sleeveless brown tunic and leggings, without any shoes on her feet. She did wear finger-less leather gloves that went up to her elbow, allowing her to play the flute without trouble.

She did not acknowledge Legolas and Duarthon approaching until they had dismounted and stood ten meters from her. Opening her eyes, she looked up at them disinterestedly, playing the last few notes of the song before putting down her flute.

"Can I help you, my lords?" she said, not making any indication of getting up.

"We come seeking news," Legolas said, adopting the role of diplomat. "Word has reached us that dark forces are spreading from the south. We came to inquire as to whether you have further information regarding these dark forces, or where we may seek out a source of this dark power?"

"Dol Guldur is the epicenter of the evil you speak of. I rarely travel that far south." She spoke as if the entire idea bored her greatly. "Be careful if you travel that way. The giant spiders are spreading and wargs hunt whatever moves."

As she finished her warning, she pulled a piece of bloody meat from a pouch on her belt and threw it in the air, her eyes still on Legolas and Duarthon. Legolas's eyes followed the meat, and he was startled when a hawk flew out of nowhere and snatched it from the air before landing in a nearby pine to consume the treat.

"Is there no other news you can share with us, my lady?" Legolas asked when he regained his composure.

"None. Radagast is the one you need to speak with about that sort of thing. It is a wizard's business, not mine." Dimoriel stood and turned, showing her intention to end the conversation there.

"Perhaps you could guide us to find the wizard?" Duarthon asked hurriedly before she could disappear.

"Why do you need my help?"

"We are not as familiar with the southern half of the forest as you are, my lady," Duarthon said, eager to get her to guide them. "Surely you will be able to lead us to the wizard quicker than if we were to seek him out on our own."

"I don't see what help I would be. You should be able to find Rhosgobel fairly easily."

"What if the wizard is not home?" Duarthon inquired.

"Do you need me to show you how to defeat the evil power as well?" Dimoriel snapped, showing the first sign of emotion since they had rode up. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she continued. "I can tell you how to get through the mountains so you don't have to go around, but then you're on your own."

"That would be greatly appreciated," Legolas said, sending Duarthon a look as Dimoriel turned and beckoned for them to follow.

The elves wound their way through the dense growth until they unexpectedly came upon a tall cedar growing between the cracks in the mountain. A staircase had been chiseled out of the wall and led towards the upper branches, where a wooden home had been constructed, braced between the mountainside and the cedar. Dimoriel began up the staircase, and the other elves followed quickly.

It was obvious once they got inside that Dimoriel had never entertained anyone before. Plants grew through the windows and walls, various projects such as carvings and drawings were strewn haphazardly around the room, and there was barely space for Legolas and Duarthon to squeeze in.

"Here," Dimoriel said, pulling a scroll off a wooden shelf and clearing a space on a table by pushing everything to one side. "This is my map of the south. Rhosgobel is here," she said, pointing to a tiny image of a house with a tree growing through it near the bottom of the page. "If you take this path down the mountain," she said, trailing her finger down the image of the path. "You can follow this stream south when you reach it. When it intersects with this path," she said, pointing again. "Turn right and follow it until you reach Rhosgobel."

"Thank you, my lady," Legolas said, committing the map to memory, hoping that it would be as easy as Dimoriel made it sound. "Your assistance is appreciated."

"Just don't make a habit of it," she said in response as Legolas and Duarthon squeezed their way back out the door.

* * *

"I have never met an elf that could stand to live in such a cluttered mess," Duarthon said as soon as they had mounted and were riding down the southern side of the mountain. "I see why she and the wizard get along."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Legolas said, his own memory trying to uncover a story that was told to him about the lady. She was slightly infamous in the halls of his father, but he could not remember why. "At least she could have given us food and other supplies," Duarthon muttered to himself. "She did have quite the garden." Suddenly, an apple flew out of the trees in front of them and smacked Duarthon in the head. Rubbing the spot, he looked around for the source.

"The garden is how I survive in the winter," Dimoriel said, dropping out of the tree in front of them. "It is far too early to harvest anyway."

"So are you coming?" Legolas asked, noticing her change of clothes and the bow strapped to her back. She was now dressed in a green tunic with a leather jerkin over it, with boots and her gloves completing the outfit. "What made you change your mind?"

"You're right," she said simply. "You can't find Radagast without me."


	2. Chapter 2

_In honor of the new Desolation of Smaug trailer and my extreme nerdiness at the moment, I am going against my better judgement and I am posting another chapter for this story. Hopefully I'll get a chapter of a new story posted today, but we will see. Enjoy!_

* * *

Legolas watched Dimoriel riding in front of him, silently wondering what her story was. She had taken the lead as soon as they had picked up Sulinte from a sheltered outcropping where he grazed. Since then, she hadn't spoken a word. As he studied her, he noticed that the feathers in her hair were actually attached to strips of leather that blended in with the dark brown of her hair. He also noticed that the hawk he had come to associate with her, who had probably donated the feathers in her hair, was nowhere to be found.

"Where is your hawk?" he asked after the silence became deafening. There was no echo as he spoke, the thick undergrowth swallowing all noise.

"She flew on to see if Radagast is home," Dimoriel said without turning. "No sense riding all the way to Rhosgobel if he isn't there."

Silence fell on the companions again, broken only by the rattling of arrows in quivers or the crunch of a branch under a hoof. It was unnerving. Now that they were on the southern side of the mountains, Legolas could feel the dark magic against his skin, seeping through the trees on all sides. He could tell Duarthon felt it too, as the other elf looked around warily, peering into the darkness between the trees. Dimoriel acted as indifferent as ever, keeping her eyes forward as they rode.

Trying to stave off the gloom, Legolas tried to engage in conversation again.

"How has Sulinte been?"

"As good as his father. I see you managed to get a brother."

"Yes. I had to wait several years, but I am glad I did. Caranghir is incredibly smart. I see why you are so attached to his lineage." He paused for a moment before continuing. "Are they descended from the Mearas? Turechion suggested they were." Dimoriel was silent for awhile, Legolas watching her curiously.

"Distantly, yes. Many, many generations. From before my time in Gondor."

"Gondor?" Duarthon asked, interested. "What did you do in Gondor?"

But that was all Dimoriel would say on the subject. Legolas saw her jaw clench, and he looked back at his friend, silently telling him not to press the issue. He wasn't sure why she was so reluctant to talk about her life, but he didn't want to alienate her when they still had a mission to accomplish.

* * *

Eventually it started getting dark, and Legolas could feel the darkness pressing in on him ever tighter.

"Lady Dimoriel," he called. "Should we not stop to make camp?" Looking around at him for the first time since they started, Dimoriel and Sulinte paused.

"Do you need to rest?" she asked as if this was unexpected.

"Our horses do," Legolas said, patting Caranghir's neck. "We have been riding for several days."

"Very well," Dimoriel said, dismounting where she was. "We shall camp here."

"Right here?" Legolas said, looking around.

"You won't find a better spot than this," Dimoriel assured him. "We have water and you can make a fire here," she said, pointing at an open space. "We'll need one. It will help keep the wargs away."

"Are there many wargs in this area?" Duarthon asked, looking around as if he expected yellow eyes to be watching him from the shadows.

"Most are further south, but they travel far looking for food. Best be on the safe side if you intend to sleep on the ground."

"Won't you sleep?"

"I will sleep up there," she said, pointing at a large tree next to the clearing where Legolas was now unpacking to set up camp. "It's safer there, despite the spiders. I'll keep first watch." With that, she reached out and grabbed a low branch and pulled herself into the tree, disappearing amongst the foliage.

Legolas and Duarthon exchanged a look, before continuing to unpack. They would have discussed their unusual guide, but despite being out of sight, she was still within earshot. Instead, they just lay out their gear and started a fire in silence. When they lay down, they began talking about nothing in particular, though the conversation natural shifted to the darkness that they could feel pressing in on them, despite the fire.

"I just don't like how quiet it is," Duarthon said, looking around into the trees. "It is unnerving."

"It is a powerful dark magic," Legolas said in agreement. "I hope that Radagast will be able to shed some light on the source."

"Provided we can find him," Duarthon said before starting in alarm as Dimoriel dropped out of the tree beside him. She had her hawk on her arm as she looked at Legolas.

"Radagast isn't at Rhosgobel. However, our best chance is to keep heading that way. Lendis will try and find him and let him know we are looking for him."

"Excellent," Legolas said, not sure what else to say.

"Not to alarm you, but there are also wargs about fifteen miles to the southeast. With luck, they will not travel this way. But if they do, or if they stay put, we will have a confrontation sometime tonight or tomorrow."

"How long until they might be here?"

"Hard to say. If they were running straight towards us, within the hour. But Lendis tells me they are stationary for now, so they may stay there."

"That's comforting," Duarthon said sarcastically. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep now."

"Do you not trust me?" Dimoriel said, looking down at him. "I will have Lendis on watch for a few hours to see if they move. I suggest you get some sleep though, in case something does happen." She apparently had said enough, however, as Lendis took flight and Dimoriel pulled herself back up into the tree.

"We best do as she said," Legolas said. "Who knows when we'll be able to sleep again. The further south we go, the more dark creatures we are likely to run into."

"I love how cheerful this conversation has been," Duarthon mumbled before he stretched out between two tree roots and fell silent. Despite his grumbling, he fell asleep quickly. Legolas took considerably longer before he was able to fall asleep. He worried what the growing darkness meant for his people. If it spread north of the mountains, some might be forced to abandon their homes and take refuge underground. He then thought about Dimoriel, who lived closest to the problem. She may be safe for a while in the mountains, but they certainly wouldn't protect her forever. Not when she lived alone. Again he wondered what her story was, and why she chose to live so far away from the rest of the elves. If only he could remember, he felt he could understand her better.

* * *

Legolas woke shortly after midnight and stretched. He had been sleeping on a particularly lumpy root, which had given him dreams of been stabbed in the back with a knife. Sitting up, he looked into the treetops for Dimoriel.

"Lady Dimoriel," he called quietly, certain she would hear him. She dropped down in front of him moments later. "I can stand watch now."

"I am quite awake, Prince Legolas. I do not need to sleep tonight."

"We may all be awake for the next few nights. Sleep while you can."

"Very well. You are on your own then. Lendis is going to sleep now as well. Goodnight, my lord," she said, bowing before retreating back up into her tree. Legolas grabbed his bow and moved over to the southwest corner of the clearing, sitting just within the firelight. Nothing moved in the darkness, but he knew that wargs could be on them in an instant. They only had a few hours before morning, but it was going to be a long time sitting still, watching the darkness.

* * *

They continued riding south in the morning. They were lucky. There were no wargs on their path that day. Dimoriel informed them that they had traveled further southwest during the night. So the party continued towards Rhosgobel in silence.

It was mid afternoon when Legolas finally couldn't stand the quiet anymore. Duarthon had been twitching for a good hour, feeling the silence and the dark getting to him. He envied Dimoriel's calm disinterest, but seeing her so uncaring about the dark magic that made the hair on his neck stand up made him even more curious as to what her story was.

"I don't mean to pry, Lady Dimoriel…" he began slowly, watching her.

"Then don't," she said without looking back. Legolas fell silent, wondering if he should push his luck and finish his question. However, Dimoriel cut into his thinking before he could decide.

"I am assuming you want to know why I chose to live alone in the mountains," she said tartly. When he didn't reply, she continued. "Surely you've heard the stories?"

"Nothing to explain why you live by yourself," Legolas said, once again wishing he remembered what he had heard.

"I live by myself because I nearly killed someone almost two centuries ago while I was still living among our people." Legolas was surprised at how bluntly she said this and waited to hear more. He could tell Duarthon was listening intently at this point as well. "I fought in the wars between Gondor and the Wainriders. I was a bloodthirsty child, and I wanted my adventure. I fought off and on for nearly fifty years. But during that time, I saw so much death and destruction, that I never really recovered. My physical wounds healed, but my family told me I had changed. My mind wasn't always my own. If provoked, I could become fierce and violent.

"One time it happened, no one could stop me. Ignoring the pain inflicted on myself, I attacked a man and nearly killed him. While I had been fighting in Gondor, there was one fight that stuck with me. One of the Wainrider chiefs would collect the skulls of those he killed and decorate his chariot with their bleached bones. This poor man I attacked looked enough like the chief that it set me off. The only reason I didn't kill him was that my brother was nearby and knew of my tendencies. He pulled me off of the man and tied me up until I was myself again. But I knew that I couldn't let that happen again. So I went into exile. For everyone's safety."

Legolas and Duarthon were silent, neither of them remember any of the stories about Dimoriel that said this about her.

"Is your curiosity satisfied now?" Dimoriel said in the same flat voice. "I am a danger to myself and others. So I live in the mountains."

"I am sorry, my lady," Legolas said softly. "I can't imagine what that is like."

"It's not your fault, and I don't want your pity," she said, slightly testily. She took a deep breath before she continued. "I don't mind my life in the mountains. It is peaceful. My family traveled to the Grey Havens years ago, so I don't have any reason to see other elves anymore."

"Isn't it lonely?" Duarthon asked.

"That's why I have Sulinte and Lendis. That's enough for me."

Just then, Lendis appeared below the canopy, flying towards Dimoriel. The hawk landed on the lady's outstretched arm and shook out its feathers.

"Radagast is coming," Dimoriel said, looking to her right. Wondering how she knew that, the other elves looked in that direction as well, waiting. It took about thirty seconds before they heard the sounds of crunching foliage and twigs. Moments later, Radagast appeared, riding his sled pulled by abnormally large rabbits.

"Oh my, Dimoriel, was that your hawk that attacked me?"

"She was just trying to get your attention, Radagast," she said with a smile, hopping off of Sulinte. Legolas was fairly certain that it was the first time he had seen her smile. He had been thinking she didn't know how.

"Well what was she doing that for?" he said, looking back at the Legolas and Duarthon before shifting his eyes back to Dimoriel.

"Prince Legolas would like a word with you," she said, gesturing behind her. Legolas dismounted and walked up to the wizard.

"Good afternoon, Radagast. My father King Thranduil requests your help in determining what evil is spreading in this forest. We can feel the tendrils of dark magic even up in the north."

"Evil? Dark magic? Oh! Oh yes!" Radagast said as if he had just remembered what that meant. "Very dark magic is in this part of the forest. It stirs from Dol Guldur. You mustn't go there. Spiders and wargs are everywhere!"

"Do you know what it is that draws the spiders and wargs there?"

"No, no, but it is a powerful dark force. I sent word to Gandalf. Perhaps the gray wizard will help."

"Gandalf will be able to sort this out," Dimoriel said, looking back at Legolas. "It is best to wait until he arrives before we try to do anything further. If Radagast won't go near the fortress, it is folly for us to try."

"I don't like the idea of retreating without knowing more," Legolas said with a frown. "How long will it be before Mithrandir comes?"

"It is anyone's guess," Radagast said, his eyes shifting nervously back and forth. "Could be days, could be months."

"There isn't anything we can do but wait, Legolas," Duarthon said, his desire to leave evident. "We should go back until we hear from Mithrandir."

"Radagast, will you send word to me when you hear from Gandalf?" Dimoriel requested, her eyes on the wizard.

"Oh, oh yes! I shall. Do be careful, Dimoriel. I feel particularly uneasy today."

"I will," the elleth replied, mounting Sulinte again. "And do be careful yourself. "Your magic may not be enough to fend off the darkness if it continues growing."

The wizard disappeared quickly back into the forest, leaving the elves alone to retrace their steps north. Legolas watched Dimoriel pass him in order to take the lead once more.

He couldn't figure out how she worked. She had seemed distant, uninterested, and angry up until the wizard had arrived. He had been quite surprised to see the compassion and respect she shown Radagast. His first impression of her had been of a stagnant character with little interest in society. His second impression had been of a slightly more dynamic character with an interesting if simple lifestyle. After hearing her history, she seemed like a normal elleth that had just let her history turn her into a recluse. She still had seemed to only have a small range of emotion. But after seeing her smile, and her apparent concern for the wizard, he could see that there were some other parts to her yet to be examined. Her complexity was growing with every interaction. Following the elleth now, he found himself pondering how many other sides there were to Lady Dimoriel.


	3. Chapter 3

_So, yeah, I am posting another one of these because I have written 20+ pages for this story in the last two days. When I procrastinate on work, you guys get new chapters. So here you go, chapter 3. Send reviews if you want another one early next week. (As I said, 20 pages. I am in chapter 12 in MicrosoftWord, with 54 pages done and still a long way to go.) Enjoy!_

* * *

By the following evening, they had reached the roots of the mountains.

"There is no sense trying to go further tonight," Dimoriel said as they road up the mountain path. "You better stay in the valley tonight and leave early in the morning."

Legolas and Duarthon were surprised by this. They had expected Dimoriel to force them out so she could return to her hermitic lifestyle.

"We do not wish to impose," Legolas said, watching her silhouette ahead of him.

"Truth be told, it is a rather lonely existence here. It is strange to have people to talk to again. I shall miss it."

"You could come back with us," Duarthon suggested.

"I cannot, as I have told you," Dimoriel said, and there was a hint of regret in her voice. "It is far too dangerous."

"When was the last time you had an issue," Legolas asked, before adding, "if you don't mind me asking?"

"Quite a while, but I feel the rage always within me. I cannot risk it."

"I think you should at least try-" Duarthon began, before Dimoriel held up her hand for silence as she stopped Sulinte abruptly.

"What is it?" Legolas asked softly, his voice barely audible above the wind.

"Something is not right," Dimoriel said, staring at the cliff face, her face screwed up in concentration. Without another word, she urged Sulinte into a gallop, or what passed for one on the mountain slope. Exchanging looks, Legolas and Duarthon followed.

When they caught up to Dimoriel, it was in the gully where they had first seen her. Sulinte was standing alone peacefully, but he was the only thing that looked calm. Both elves looked around in horror at the utter ruin that had once been a lush, wild garden. Plants and trees were torn up by the roots or trampled into the ground, which itself had been torn up by enormous claws.

"Wargs," Duarthon whispered, looking around. The silence was broken by a blood curdling screech. Legolas and Duarthon immediately dismounted and hurried through the wreckage towards the sound.

When they entered Dimoriel's home, they stopped abruptly, Legolas in the doorway, Duarthon looking over his shoulder. There was nothing left to suggest that this had once been a home. All the furniture, books, and numerous plants were smashed, shattered, and shredded across the floor, the tree itself sporting deep gouges made by warg claws. But what made the two elves stop wasn't the mess, it was Lady Dimoriel.

Her description of her rage-induced episodes was nothing compared to actually experiencing it. They watched in horror as Dimoriel picked up the splintered remains of furniture and throwing them around the room, all the while emitting an inhuman howling and screeching. She pulled out a set of daggers from her belt and began throwing them around the room, smashing what little was still at least partially intact, including a window, a vase, and what remained of a leather-bound book. Legolas had to dodge one of the knives that came narrowly close to his ear, imbedding itself in the shattered doorframe.

The elves would have let her wear herself down if she hadn't started to self destruct. She grabbed broken glass and pottery with her bare hands, flinging it out the window, not caring about the blood that began dripping from her hands.

"Dimoriel," Legolas said, walking cautiously towards her. She either ignored him or didn't hear him, as she continued on flinging things out the shattered window. "Dimoriel, you need to calm down." This too had no effect. Heedless of his attempts to calm her, Dimoriel began punching the tree and the wood frames around the windows, making her knuckles bleed and cracking through the already fragile beams. When she pulled her sword from its scabbard across her back, Legolas gave up reasoning with her.

"Dimoriel! Stop it!" he shouted, rushing towards her and attempting to wrestle the sword from her grip. She snarled at him, showing considerable strength for her size as she kicked Legolas in the stomach, knocking him backward. By then, Duarthon had entered and was trying to pin her arms down. Once Legolas got his breath back and stood, he was forced to grab her roughly around the waist, pulling her backwards as Duarthon successfully freed the sword from her grip. Biting and clawing at his arm, Dimoriel fought against Legolas's grip as he dragged her bodily outside, where she had less of a chance of hurting herself, or them. More than once, they nearly fell down the stairs in a heap, but Duarthon managed to keep them upright, though he could do little more than that as Dimoriel flailed angrily.

"Get some rope!" Legolas said as he pinned the struggling elleth to a rock. He winced as she managed to get a hand free and raked her fingernails across his cheek. Duarthon quickly returned with rope, and between the two of them, they managed to get Dimoriel restrained, though she kept screeching and howling in rage.

"What do we do now?" Duarthon asked, looking at Legolas, both of them breathing hard.

"We can't go anywhere tonight. I am certain there are only the two paths in and out of this gully, so we should try and put debris or something in the openings, which will at least hinder any more wargs should they try to come up here."

"I suppose it was lucky that the wargs attacked when Dimoriel was gone."

"Lucky for whom?" Legolas asked. "Dimoriel, or the wargs?"

* * *

Dimoriel woke to a severe throbbing all over her body. Groaning, she blinked open her eyes and saw Legolas sitting in front of her, tending a warm fire burning in her fire pit.

"Welcome back," he said, glancing up at her. "You are back, right?"

"How bad was it?" Dimoriel asked, trying to hold her spinning head. It was then that she realized she was bound tightly. "Oh," she said, looking down at the ropes.

"I think I understand now," Legolas said, getting up and walking around to untie her. "You did a great deal of damage."

"It doesn't matter, everything was destroyed already," she said heavily. Legolas was glad to see these thoughts didn't make her angry again. She just seemed weary as he undid the bonds around her arms and she stretched them experimentally. Wincing, she noticed that her hands were covered in blood.

"I hope this is all mine," Dimoriel said as Legolas finished untying her. "Where is Duarthon?"

"He's checking to make sure we are secure for the night," Legolas said, looking down at her hands. "Here, let me."

"It's alright," Dimoriel said, pulling her hands away from him as he reached towards her. "I do it all the time. Just get me some water and I'll fix it. Wait," she said as he made to get up. "Is that from me?"

Dimoriel pointed to Legolas's cheek, and he put up his hand to touch it, and found that there was a damp spot. Pulling his fingers away, he saw his own blood on them.

"Yes, it is from you, but it's just a scratch," he assured her. Returning a moment later with water, he found Dimoriel had already wiped most of the blood off her hands onto her leggings.

"You could have waited," he said, putting the bowl in front of her as Duarthon returned.

"I think we are good for the night. I will stand watch first. How are you doing, my lady?"

"Better," she said, taking a clean cloth Legolas offered her and putting it in the bowl. "Come here." Legolas looked at her, confused. "It's my fault you're bleeding, let me at least clean it."

"It's really nothing," Legolas said, not moving. "I am fine. You are far worse than I am."

"Let me clean it, or it will get infected," Dimoriel insisted firmly. "Duarthon, restrain him."

"There is no need for that," Legolas said, holding up his hands in defeat as Duarthon just opened his mouth in surprise, not sure what to do. Legolas sat down next to Dimoriel, patiently letting her clean the cut on his cheek, feeling like a little elfling that was having his face wiped by his mother after a particular messy dinner.

"Did I hurt you at all, Duarthon?" Dimoriel asked, wiping her hand on her leggings again as fresh blood seeped from some of the cuts.

"Maybe a few bruises in the morning, but I'm alright," he said, watching her tend to Legolas. "You are quite powerful when you are like that. I don't think I've ever seen Prince Legolas knocked on his back like that."

"I apologize, I really cannot control it at all," Dimoriel said, her voice full of regret. "Where did I hit you?"

"In the stomach, but I'll be fine," Legolas said quickly, determined not to be doted on anymore while Dimoriel was still bleeding. As soon as she stopped cleaning his cheek, he picked up the bowl and took the cloth from her. "You, however, need some serious work. Can you take your gloves off or is it too painful?"

"I can do it," Dimoriel said, though she winced repeatedly as she slowly removed the garments. "And I can clean my own injuries, thank you."

"I can as well, but you didn't let me, so I am going to clean yours now," Legolas said firmly. "I am still your prince, and I will order you to sit still if I have to." Dimoriel looked at him sourly but relented, holding out her bloody hands.

"Do we have any bandages, Duarthon?" Legolas asked as he rinsed the elleth's hands carefully.

"I think so. I'll go get some," he said, getting up and disappearing into the night. The other two elves sat in silence for awhile, before Legolas decided it was necessary to bring up a topic that he knew wouldn't be well received.

"I do hope you will reconsider returning with us tomorrow," Legolas said as he examined Dimoriel's knuckles, making sure there were no wood splinters in them.

"I think after tonight, you should be able to understand why I can't."

"I can see why you think so," Legolas said, looking up at Duarthon as he sat down, taking the proffered bandages. "But you cannot stay here."

"I have lived here for centuries. I can rebuild."

"Perhaps, but you do not have the food to last through the coming winter right now, with your crops destroyed, nor do you have a house that is suitable to live in when the snows come."

"I have enough time before the snow settles to arrange my house. As for food, I can always hunt, or go into the market."

"Surely the winter passes become cut off by snow in the winter. It would be risky."

"I have done it before."

"What about the wargs? You cannot pretend that they are not coming this far north now. You will be extremely vulnerable to another attack. Especially as the darkness grows."

Dimoriel fell silent as she tried to think of a counter argument for this point. It was apparently a good one, as she was unable to come up with a response. Instead, she reverted to her original argument.

"Be that as it may, I am a danger to myself and others and cannot live among civilized people."

"I think you could," Legolas said, carefully wrapping her hand. "As long as people are aware and keep an eye out for you."

"So essentially I'll be like an elfling, constantly being babysat, except it's to keep me from killing someone, not to keep me from eating dirt."

"I think you should at least try it for the winter season," Duarthon added. "It beats staying up here and starving. I'm sure we can find you a place in the woods where you are generally away from people, but close enough that you can get food and supplies when you need them."

Dimoriel was silent, thinking hard about her options as Legolas finished wrapping her hand. She really had nothing to stay here for now. All her belongings had been destroyed, and she would have trouble when winter came, with so little of her garden surviving.

"Are you sure you can get me a place away from everyone?" Legolas smiled up at her as he tucked in the end of the last bandage.

"Absolutely."

* * *

Despite Duarthon saying he would keep watch, Legolas stayed up late, staring into the fire, deep in thought. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker onto Lady Dimoriel, sleeping peacefully on the other side of the fire. He couldn't imagine how she must be feeling. Before she fell asleep, he had retrieved the few things still intact from her home, despite her protests to do it herself.

All that had survived were some clothes, a few books, and a small wooden chest that he had retrieved from the upper beams of the house. When asked what was in it, she merely scowled and said, "That is none of your concern," so Legolas left it alone.

Dimoriel had lost everything, and he couldn't help but feel partially responsible. If she hadn't been away, she might have been able to do something. Then again, she might have been killed by the wargs. On top of this, she had her traumatic past that wouldn't let her be at peace. She had said she didn't want his pity, but he felt incredibly sorry for her all the same. He couldn't imagine what he would do if he lost his home.

Again, he wondered at her complexity. He had seen disinterested, angry, compassionate, violent, weary, lonely, and motherly all in the last two days. Her need to tend to his wound had been the most surprising, seeing as how he had assumed she cared little about him or Duarthon. The tenderness was all the more unexpected so soon after her incredibly violent fit. She had said she was not herself during these episodes, but what he had observed was positively animalistic. There was no reasoning with this side of her, and no way to control the feral beast that was unleashed. She had ignored every self-inflicted injury she suffered. Legolas wondered what would have happened to her if he and Duarthon had not been there to restrain her.

He was just about to drift off amidst these thoughts when he heard a whimper from across the fire. Instantly awake, he looked up at Dimoriel, who was fidgeting in her sleep, her lips moving in silent words, her face bearing a very troubled expression. Legolas hesitated, not sure if he should wake her. She started breathing with rapid, shallow breaths, moaning in pain. Thinking of nothing else he could do, Legolas started singing softly, hoping that his sweet words would chase away the dark dreams. It seemed silly, but whenever he'd had nightmares as a child, his mother's singing would always banish the bad dreams. Perhaps he could do the same for Dimoriel.

It took a while, but she slowly started to calm down, her movement ceasing as her moans died down. Duarthon approached and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Legolas just put a finger to his lips, shaking his head as he continued singing. Puzzled, Duarthon nodded and returned to his post.

* * *

Dimoriel woke the next morning as the first light of dawn could be seen over the mountains to the east. She sat up, glancing at Duarthon sleeping a little ways away, very puzzled. Since she had her first episode, she had always had nightmares when she fell asleep the following night. Vivid memories of the horrors she had witnessed would fill her mind, assaulting her senses until she woke in a cold sweat. She had expected this to happen last night, but for some reason, she had slept all the way through the night.

As she thought about it, she remembered how the nightmares had started, pressing in on her as she slept. But for some reason, they had faded, disappearing as a pale, warm light filled her thoughts instead with a calm peace. Never before had her nightmare been interrupted. She could not explain what had happened.

"Are you ready to leave?" She looked around and saw Legolas walking towards her.

"As ready as I will ever be," Dimoriel said with a sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

_I really have nothing to say except I will post another chapter soon, and you should read my other stories in the meantime. Enjoy!_

* * *

"I am not sure about this," Dimoriel said hesitantly as they passed another wood elf home. They were almost to the king's palace.

"It will be fine," Legolas assured her, nodding at an elf that walked by. It took him a moment to realize that Dimoriel had stopped. He paused, looking around at her. Behind her, Duarthon stopped as well. "Dimoriel?"

"I can't do this. I can't risk it."

"You are already here, you mine as well stay," Legolas replied. "Until we find a place for you, you are more than welcome to stay in the palace."

"Perhaps I should just find a tree and camp," Dimoriel said, looking like she was about to turn around.

"If you want, you can stay with me and my wife," Duarthon offered. "We live out in the woods, and it is easier to get away without running into people than if you were in the palace itself."

Dimoriel was silent, thinking it over. She really just wanted to ride home, but she no longer had a home. She had come this far.

"Alright," she said finally. "If it is not too much trouble."

"Not at all. Lithiril will be happy to have you, and we have plenty of room where you don't need to worry about contact with others. We can go now instead of heading to the palace. I will meet you there later, Legolas." Legolas smiled and nodded, continuing on as Duarthon turned north, Dimoriel following.

"I really appreciate this," Dimoriel said softly after they had ridden some distance in silence. "I will stay out of your way as best I can."

"I doubt you will have any reason to worry in our house," Duarthon said, knowing that she was worried about her disposition. "Lithiril can make anyone smile. You have nothing to fear while you are with us."

"I still fear for your safety. I will leave as soon as possible."

"Just wait until you meet my wife. You will see."

Dimoriel did not have long to wait. They rode a short distance further down the path, when a dark haired elleth came into view, kneeling in a tidy flowerbed beside a sizable tree house. When she heard the sound of hooves, she looked up, her face breaking into a smile.

"Duarthon! You are home sooner than I expected. I am glad you are safe though. Who is this?" she asked, looking up at Dimoriel as her husband dismounted next to her. He kissed her cheek before continuing.

"This is Lady Dimoriel. If you do not mind terrible, she needs a place to stay for awhile and I offered to let her remain here."

"Not a problem at all! It is a pleasure to have you, Lady Dimoriel," Lithiril said, wiping her hands on her apron. "You are welcome in our home as long as you like."

"Thank you very much, my lady. I do apologize for arriving without notice like this."

"Think nothing of it. I do love visitors. Oh my!" she said, her eyes going wide as Lendis dropped out of nowhere and alighted on Dimoriel's shoulder. "Is this a friend of yours?"

"Yes, this is Lendis, but she will roost outside, so there is no need to worry about her."

"Of course, of course. Please, do come in. I am sure you are hungry after a long ride."

"Thank you, my lady," Dimoriel said, dismounting.

"Lithiril, I have to go meet with the king and give my report now, but I will be back soon. Do you think you can get Dimoriel settled?"

"Certainly," Lithiril replied as Duarthon mounted his horse again. "We will have everything settled by the time you get back.

"Excellent. I will see you later, _melamin_. Lady Dimoriel." Duarthon turned his horse and departed back down the path they had come, leaving Dimoriel alone with his wife. Dimoriel was nervous being left alone with the lady. If something should set her off, she would have no one to protect Lithiril from her rage. Feeling that she should get that piece of information out on the table, Dimoriel stopped her hostess as she made to enter the house.

"My lady, I feel I must warn you about myself before you decide to let me stay here." Lithiril turned and looked at Dimoriel with a puzzled look, waiting for her to continue. "I am not entirely stable, mentally I mean. I have suffered a great deal of pain in my life, and when I get angry, I lose control of my faculties. Just a few days previous, my home in the mountains was destroyed, and I hurt both your husband and Prince Legolas as they attempted to restrain me."

"My dear girl, if anger sets you off, then you will have no problems here. Duarthon looks quite alright to me, and if he thinks you will be fine in our home, then I trust his judgment. And if you do need to talk about anything, anything at all, I am here to listen."

"Thank you, my lady. I hopefully will not intrude for very long as it is."

"As I said, you are welcome as long as you need someplace to stay. And no more of that 'my lady' business. You are a guest and a friend, so simply Lithiril will suffice."

"Thank you," Dimoriel repeated, following Lithiril inside.

* * *

Legolas knocked on his father's study and waited patiently to hear "enter" from within before he opened the large oak doors. His father was sitting behind his desk as usual, but he did not have a hoard of advisors around him today. He simply sat, reading a leather-bound book. When his son entered, King Thranduil looked up and smiled, closing his book and placing it on the desk in front of him.

"Back so soon? What news have you for me? Where is Duarthon?"

"Nothing good, I'm afraid. Duarthon will be here shortly, he had to run home first."

"Very well, what news do you have to share?" Thranduil asked, gesturing for Legolas to take a seat and continue.

"The dark magic comes from Dol Guldur," Legolas said grimly, sitting in the indicated chair. "We met up with Radagast and he advised us not to go further south, as the wargs and spiders are spreading. They have started venturing as far north as the mountains."

"Those are ill tidings," Thranduil said, his face full of concern. "And what of Lady Dimoriel? Did she have any additional news?"

"Nothing new, but I do need to speak to you about her."

"Oh?" Thranduil said. Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Enter." Duarthon opened the door, coming over to sit beside Legolas after bowing to his king respectfully.

"I apologize for my belatedness, your majesty. I had to drop off Lady Dimoriel at my house."

"She is here?" Thranduil asked, his gaze shifting to his son. "Why did she return with you?"

"Her home was destroyed while she guided us through the southern forest in search of the brown wizard," Legolas said evenly. "She had nowhere to go."

"Are you fully aware of the reasons for her exile?" Thranduil asked, watching his son carefully.

"She did explain her situation to us," Duarthon said, causing the king's gaze to shift to him. "But she could not rebuild in time to survive the winter alone in the mountains."

"Did she explain how she nearly killed a prominent leader of Esgaroth?" the king asked, his voice betraying his concern. "It is not safe to have her live here."

"We are well aware of what she is capable of," Legolas said evenly. "When we returned to find her home destroyed, she had an episode. But as long as she is not angered, she will be fine."

"How do you propose to keep her from being angry?" Thranduil asked.

"She will spend most of her time alone anyway," Duarthon assured the king. "And I will keep an eye on her. She will be staying with me until we find her other accommodations, which she requested be far away from other people."

"I think the best thing would be to build her a new home deep in the forest," Legolas added. "She will be far enough away from people that she can live her hermitic lifestyle, but close enough that she can get supplies should she need them."

"I am not comfortable with the risk that she posses to my people," Thranduil said, folding his hands thoughtfully. "But if you both agree to keep a close eye on her, then I suppose I can agree to this. She is not to go anywhere near Men. I do not want another incident if we can avoid it. Anyway, is there anything else you need to report about Dol Guldur?"

"Radagast sent word to Mithrandir about the dark magic. With luck, he will receive it shortly and come to assist us. Radagast will send word when he arrives."

"I wish I could do more than wait," Thranduil said pensively. "Alright, if wait we must do, then wait we shall. Thank you both. And make sure you keep a close eye on Lady Dimoriel. She is your responsibility."

* * *

Legolas and Duarthon rode back to the latter's house after meeting with an architect about the construction of a home for Dimoriel. But before they made the final plans, they wanted to talk to the lady about it. But upon arriving at Duarthon's home, Lithiril informed them that Dimoriel was not there.

"I showed her where she will be staying, and then she excused herself. She's been gone for several hours now."

"Do you think she's just out riding, or do you think she is heading back home?"

"I'm not sure," Legolas said with a frown. "Did she leave anything in her room?"

"I didn't check," Lithiril said, walking into the hallway towards the guest room. She opened the door and let Legolas and Duarthon inside. Immediately, Legolas noticed that the small wooden chest on the bedside table.

"She'll be back," he said, confident that she wouldn't leave the box after she had made him retrieve it for her.

"Well since I do not know when she will be back, would you like to stay for dinner, Prince Legolas?" Lithiril asked as they left the room and shut the door once more. Legolas smiled down at her.

"It would be my pleasure."

* * *

Legolas began to worry when it got dark and Dimoriel had still not returned. Lithiril was equally concerned, looking out the window frequently. She was reluctant to serve dinner until their guest returned, but it had been ready for a long time, and there was still no sign of Dimoriel. Duarthon was the least concerned, constantly assuring the other two that she would come back when she was ready.

Lithiril was just about to suggest they eat without Dimoriel when she heard hooves from outside. Looking out the window, she saw the elleth galloping around the house to the front door.

"Oh good, she's back," Lithiril said, heading towards the door to open it and let Dimoriel in. "We were waiting for you, Dimoriel."

"Why?" she asked, looking around when she came in, her eyes falling on Legolas.

"We needed to talk to you about your housing situation," Legolas explained, watching her from the chair he occupied near the fireplace. "And we wanted to make sure you got dinner."

"Oh," Dimoriel said softly. "You didn't need to wait for me."

"Nonsense," Lithiril commented, taking Dimoriel's arm and leading her into the dining room. "We weren't going to let you eat alone. Come, you can talk over dinner."

It had been a long time since Dimoriel had shared a dinner table with other elves. She sat quietly, looking down at her meal as Legolas and Duarthon explained their plan for her home.

"You need not worry about being around people," Legolas concluded after giving her a detailed plan of what they intended to build. "We found a spot to the north which is secluded and away from significant traffic."

"How long will it take to build?" Dimoriel asked, still not looking up.

"It depends on want specifications you want," Duarthon replied. "It can be done at the end of the week if you want just a basic wooden design."

"I just want it done as quickly as possible," Dimoriel said flatly. "As long as I have a roof over my head I do not care. I would normally build it myself, but that would take longer than I would like."

"Very well," Legolas said, watching her stare into her soup. "We will have it set up for you in a week's time."

* * *

Dimoriel was absent most of the week, out riding through the forests by herself as Duarthon oversaw the construction of her home. Legolas frequently visited Duarthon, either to see how construction was coming or to check up on Dimoriel. He saw her only once, however, when he arrived early in the morning and happened to run into her as she was leaving.

"How are you doing this morning, my lady?" he asked, watching her mount Sulinte, her bow on her back.

"Well enough," she said simply. "Good day, Prince Legolas." He was forced to watch her gallop off without another word. He felt himself wondering why she avoided everyone like she did. He knew she feared being angered, but he felt that with Duarthon, Lithirin, and himself knowing her condition would make it easier to be around people. She had said herself that she was lonely. It didn't make sense to him for her to keep running away when she knew there were people who could respect her situation.

Despite the fact that they rarely saw each other, Lithiril had apparently developed an attachment to Dimoriel. She seemed to find it her personal mission to make Dimoriel comfortable and happy, which included trying to get her out into society. More than once Lithiril tried to get Dimoriel to join her and some friends for tea, but she did little more than nod in acknowledgement at the other elves before slipping out of the house and disappearing into the woods.

Lithirin had also tried very hard to send some extra furniture and household items to the new house, since Dimoriel had so few belongings to bring with her. Dimoriel had protested a great deal, forcing Lithirin to enlist her husband's aid in sneaking things into the new house before Dimoriel arrived.

It wasn't until Dimoriel was to move into her new house that Legolas saw her again. He arrived at the new house to inspect it before Dimoriel arrived with Duarthon and Lithiril, who had insisted on coming to see what her husband had done with the new place. As he dismounted Caranghir, Legolas looked up at the building, feeling that it could have looked much better given more time, but that it seemed fitting for Dimoriel based on what she had previously used as a dwelling.

Entering the building, he almost tripped over a chair that was sitting next to the door. It appeared Lithiril had been particularly generous, and there was very little room to walk through the small house now that it had been filled with furniture. Legolas made an attempt to bring order to the chaos, but quickly gave up. Dimoriel would undoubtedly redesign the layout anyway. He decided instead to browse the rest of the house.

The structure had been built more vertically than horizontally, a cylindrical building built around a sturdy birch tree. There were three levels, the bottom of which had a fireplace, a stove, and an open floor plan, which would undoubtedly be used as a sitting room and kitchen, though Legolas doubted many elves would be invited to use it. The second floor was divided into two rooms, one bathroom and one room which could be used as either a bedroom or a study. The top was divided between a small enclosed room and an open porch which faced south. It was a nice, simple home, and Legolas felt confident Dimoriel would find it suitable.

As he walked back down the thin spiral staircase, he heard horses approaching. Stepping outside he smiled at his friends as they approached. Lady Dimoriel looked up at the house, her face as unreadable as ever.

"I just gave it one last inspection, Lady Dimoriel. I do believe it will satisfy your needs."

"We will see," she said, dismounting and brushing past him into the house. Legolas watched her examine the structure silently as Duarthon and Lithiril came up behind him.

"So what do you think?" Duarthon asked, eyes following Dimoriel as she started up the staircase. "I think it turned out quite well for only a week of work."

"You certainly outdid yourself, Duarthon," Legolas said with a smile, listening to Dimoriel's quiet footsteps on the floor above. "And you were particularly generous with the furniture, Lithiril."

"Well I didn't know it was so small," Lithiril said, slipping between the two elves and entering the house. "I will certainly take back anything she doesn't want. It is a bit cramped, isn't it? Not a lot of room for entertaining guests."

"Entertaining guests is not something I intend to do," Dimoriel said, returning from her examination of the upper floors. "Thank you, Duarthon, for your efforts. I believe I will find this quite comfortable for the time being. And thank you, Lithiril, for the furniture. I will return what I don't intend to use once I have figured out how I intend to organize things."

"Keep as much as you'd like, my dear," Lithiril said with a smile. "Do you want any help moving anything?"

"No, I can manage," Dimoriel said, scanning the room thoughtfully.

"Do you want me to stay and make dinner while you organize things? I'd be happy to assist you."

"Not necessary," Dimoriel responded patiently. Despite their limited interaction over the past week, Legolas got the impression Dimoriel liked Lithiril. She used the same tone when she spoke to the other elleth as she had used when speaking to Radagast.

"Are you sure? I am more than happy to help with anything you need."

"I am alright, but thank you. I just need to figure out what my plan shall be."

"Okay then. Don't forget about dinner tomorrow night though. I expect you to be there, whether your house is organized yet or not."

"I will be there," Dimoriel said, giving the other elleth a small smile. "Thank you, Lithiril." Satisfied, Lithiril followed her husband back out of the house, leaving Legolas alone with Dimoriel. He watched her silently for a moment, her eyes still skimming across the room in thought.

"Do you need me to get anything for you?" Legolas asked finally. "You obviously have more than enough furniture, but is there anything else you might want? Pots and pans? Books? Plants? Clothing? Nails perhaps so you can put up some shelves?"

"I believe Lithiril has provided me with dishes and pans. I have already started collecting plants, and I think I better do my own shopping for books and clothes. As for nails, I can pick some up when I go to the market for other supplies."

"Well if you need anything let me know. I will come see how you are doing in a few days."

"You really don't need to check up on me," Dimoriel said, watching him. "I am far enough away from people that I shouldn't be a threat to anyone."

"I am not worried about you being a threat, I just want to make sure you are settled in comfortably," Legolas said with a smile. "And I mean it. If you need anything at all, I will do my best to accommodate you."

"Thank you," Dimoriel said after a moment of silence. Legolas nodded and excused himself, leaving Dimoriel to her work.


	5. Chapter 5

_Part 5! Enjoy!_

* * *

Dimoriel looked around her new home, feeling a range of emotions as she studied the new furnishings and the unfamiliar layout. She had gotten rid of most of the chairs, keeping desks and tables which stood empty around the main room. It just did not feel right. The desks should be covered in books and papers and other odds-and-ends she had picked up on her travels. Now, only one of the six tables surrounding her had anything on it. Her wooden chest looked sad and lonely in the middle of the road oak table. Not wanting to look at her dismal main room any longer, she picked up the chest and climbed the narrow staircase to her bedchamber.

Even this room was depressing to observe, despite the beautiful cherry bed frame and the deep blue sheets covering the mattress. Dimoriel was so used to sleeping in a cluttered mess, the few personal belongs she had scattered across the bed seemed out of place instead of homey. Carefully sliding the chest under the bed for the moment, Dimoriel made her way up to the top floor and out onto her balcony, where she had hung her hammock.

Settling back in the rocking hammock, Dimoriel pondered what she had to do now. She certainly needed to buy a lot of plants and books to fill her home. She would quickly grow to resent the new space if it was not filled with her normal décor. At some point she should probably buy more clothes and blankets for the winter. Sewing was one of her skills, but not one she enjoyed. With the cold weather on its way, she would rather be getting food collected from the forest than sitting inside making a new tunic. She was loath to go into the marketplace to get fitted though, and growled quietly as she thought about the torture she must soon endure.

"Hello? My lady? Are you home?"

Dimoriel sat up and looked down from her balcony. She was not happy that she had somehow managed not to hear the newcomer approaching, especially when it was someone who she did not recognize. Standing at her door with his hands behind his back was a dark haired elf in crimson and dark orange robes. He looked nervous as he stood on the doorstep, apparently unaware that she was looking down at him. Feeling that the intruder deserved a fright for calling on her unannounced, Dimoriel quietly climbed down along the outside of her house, dropping next to him lightly. She felt extremely pleased with herself when he started violently, almost dropping the book he held tightly in his left hand.

"Lady Dimoriel?" he asked, trying to regain his composure.

"What do you want?" she said roughly, making it clear she wasn't going to follow protocol and address him formally. He was clearly a member of the King's court, in his high-quality fabrics and excessive adornments. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"I apologize for showing up unannounced, my lady, but I heard you had just moved in and was eager to meet you."

"Meet me?" she said in surprise, not believing anyone, especially from court, would have any interest in associating with her. "Why?"

"Forgive me, I haven't introduced myself. I am Maenthol, advisor to the King and unofficial librarian for the royal collection. As a scholar, I am fascinated by your choice to live alone in the mountains. You must have a remarkable tale to tell."

Dimoriel frowned, examining Maenthol closely. Who did he think he was, coming here and trying to invade her privacy like this? He had some nerve, asking her about such things. She could feel her heart rate rising, and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"I am sorry, my lord," she said, not sounding the least bit sorry. "But I do not wish to have my life meticulously documented and analyzed by a librarian. If you'll excuse me." She quickly opened her door, stepping inside before shutting it in Maenthol's face. Ignoring his protestations from the other side of the door, she climbed up to her study and sat down with a sigh, resting her head on her desk as she closed her eyes. She sincerely hoped that no more curious elves would come bothering her in the days to come.

* * *

What Dimoriel did not expect was for Maenthol to return the following day. And the day after. She stopped answering her door when he arrived, feeling her irritation reach a dangerous point after the first week. Normally she would have admired such persistence, but not when it was used to pester her.

At dinner with Lithiril and Duarthon a week after his visits started, Dimoriel explained her problem to her friends.

"Why is he so determined?" she asked, her frustration evident. Duarthon smiled across the table at her, his eyes expressing both sympathy and mild amusement.

"He does not get to leave the palace very often. And you are certainly a novelty he has never had the chance to study before."

"I'm not a bird or a butterfly for him to examine. Does he not know what I am capable of?"

"It is unlikely, to be honest," Duarthon said softly. "The King informed his advisors of your presence, but not why you are here in the first place, especially all the way out here, on the edge of the kingdom."

"I am afraid what I may do if he keeps this up. I keep trying to ignore him, but he will not cease his prodding."

"I'll see what I can do," Duarthon offered, setting down his fork. "I will seek him out in the morning."

"Thank you, Duarthon," Dimoriel said, glad that she at least had someone who did not look at her as a sideshow freak.

* * *

The following day, Dimoriel did not see Maenthol. She had no visitors at all, and she was thrilled about it. She was in such a pleasant mood that she decided to brave the marketplace the day afterwards to start buying her sorely-needed décor.

She spent most of the morning buying plants, but also bought an axe and some hand tools so she could begin building shelves. Most of her new purchases were to be delivered to her house, but she decided to keep the ax. She was starting to feel uncomfortable around all these people again, and the blade was a small measure of comfort. It was probably not something she should be carrying around in a public area, in case she had a fit, but she hoped the comforting weight would ease her anxiety.

As she wandered the main street, ax slung across her back, she glanced in a shop window, pausing as she caught sight of books and scrolls stacked on the window ledge. There appeared to be no one inside, so she backtracked, opening the door as a bell jingled merrily. She made for the nearest bookshelf, examining the leather spines. She reached up to pull down a book called _History of the Northern Wyrms_, but paused as an elleth entered the room.

"Good afternoon, my lady. Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I am just looking, thank you."

"Well if you need anything do not hesitate to ask. We have books on everything you can imagine here, from dwarf history to agriculture to children's stories. There is also a large collection of maps over by the window if you are interested in that sort of thing."

"Thank you," Dimoriel repeated, carefully removing the _Wyrms_ book from the shelf and leafing through the pages. It did not take long for Dimoriel to accumulate a large collection of books she intended to purchase, which she stacked on the nearest table.

"If you would like," the elleth behind the counter said, looking up from her paperwork. "You can bring those books over her and I can set them aside for you." Dimoriel nodded, carefully picking up her stack and carrying it over to the counter. "You are new in the area, aren't you?"

"Yes," Dimoriel said softly, dreading the moment when the shopkeeper asked about her past.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady. I am Nedulmir. My husband and I run this shop. It is wonderful to see someone as addicted to the written word as we are."

"I am Dimoriel," she responded with a small smile. "What sort of maps do you have?"

"All sorts," Nedulmir said happily, coming around the counter. "What are you looking for?"

"Maps of Mirkwood, mostly, though I am curious what else you may have."

"We certainly have a large selection of maps of Mirkwood, many of them made by my husband and son. Let me show you."

Dimoriel poured over the maps for well over an hour, examining every detail. Nedulmir left her to her own devices after awhile, disappearing into the back room once more. She was so engrossed in her examination, Dimoriel failed to notice Maenthol until he entered the shop, setting the bell jingling again.

"Lady Dimoriel, I am glad to have caught you out and about," he said, smiling widely as he positioned himself between her and the exit, preventing an easy escape. "I would dearly love to talk to you if you have a few minutes."

"I am actually quite busy shopping at the moment," Lady Dimoriel said, turning back to the maps, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Lord Maenthol, how are you?"

"Fairly well, Nedulmir. How are you today?"

"Quite happy. As you can see, Lady Dimoriel is quickly becoming my favorite patron," she said, gesturing at the books in front of her. "Are you two acquainted?"

"Yes, we met the other day. I was actually hoping to chat with the lady if she has a moment."

"As I said, I am busy."

"Just hear me out," Maenthol said, taking a step closer, making Dimoriel look up at him in annoyance. "I don't think you understand how valuable your knowledge is."

"Nedulmir, I think that will be all for today," Dimoriel said, picking up a short stack of maps and carrying them to the desk, carefully avoiding Lord Maenthol. "I will take the _History of the Northern Wyrms_ to read now, but I would appreciate if the rest could be sent to my house."

"Of course. I will have my son drop them off tomorrow morning," Nedulmir said, going through the books Dimoriel had stacked up, adding up the overall cost.

"My lady, if you please-" Maenthol tried again, following Dimoriel over to the counter. He was cut off as Dimoriel began pulling out gold coins to pay Nedulmir, addressing the shopkeeper pleasantly, still determined to ignore the elf harassing her. After she paid, she quickly dodged around the irritating elf and made for the door, disappearing out onto the street. Maenthol, however, followed closely, still trying to explain his point of view. Dimoriel could feel her patience slipping further and further away as he continued pleading. She could feel the anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface. Her forced calm was starting to break.

* * *

Legolas strolled through the market, wondering if he really wanted to spend the money to get a new pair of boots. He did not need to come out the market, as the cobbler would be more than happy to pay him a visit in the palace, but he had been stuck inside writing up reports for the last four days, and was determined to get outside for a while.

It was a warm, sunny day, and he did not feel any need to hurry. It was perhaps a good thing, too, because if he had hurried, he would not have been able to come to Dimoriel's rescue.

"Please, Lady Dimoriel, you don't understand."

Upon hearing the lady's name, Legolas turned to see Lady Dimoriel, striding rapidly through the street, an ax strapped to her back as Lord Maenthol, his father's advisor, followed behind her closely. He immediately changed course to intercept the pair, noticing instantly the angry fire burning in Dimoriel's eyes. Her usually calm mask was rapidly deteriorating, her knuckles white as she clenched her leather-bound book in one hand, the fingers on her other hand twitching, looking as though she was fighting hard not to grab the ax behind her. He could see her jaw, clenched tight as she tried to ignore her shadow, but Legolas knew that Lord Maenthol would not be deterred by silence.

"Lady Dimoriel, Lord Maenthol. How are you both this afternoon?" Legolas asked, appearing out of the crowd in front of them.

"I have been better," Dimoriel hissed through clenched teeth. He knew she was very close to snapping.

"Prince Legolas, good to see you. I am quite well, thank you. I am just trying to explain to Lady Dimoriel how useful her knowledge could be, and how I would like the chance to write it down for the royal library."

"Though I appreciate your intention, Lord Maenthol, I suggest you abandon your mission now. It would be most imprudent to continue bothering Lady Dimoriel. I thought Lord Duarthon spoke to you about this matter."

"Yes, he did, but when I saw her in the bookshop window, I thought I could try and convince her to listen to me."

"Lady Dimoriel is far too polite to say anything, but I believe you are becoming a nuisance," Legolas said bluntly. "Besides, I would like a word with her. I would request that you leave her be from now on."

"Yes, Prince Legolas," Lord Maenthol said in defeat, bowing before disappearing into the throng of shoppers.

"He should leave you alone now," Legolas said, turning to Dimoriel. "He would not dare go against my request."

"Thank you, Prince Legolas," Dimoriel said, taking a deep, steadying breath. She could feel her fingers relaxing around the book in her hand. "I was under the impression Duarthon had spoken to him and he knew better than to come near me."

"Lord Maenthol is a very enthusiastic scholar. Once he gets an idea in his head, he will not let it go. I am sorry you had to deal with that. Are you alright?"

"I am afraid I was very close to an episode," she replied evenly, looking up at him with her normal, emotionless face. "I have done the majority of my shopping for the moment and should not have to bother normal folks again for awhile."

"I was not concerned about the shoppers. I was concerned what would happen to you if you killed Lord Maenthol, even if he may have deserved it."

"All the same, I think I shall return home now."

"If you do not mind, I would be happy to accompany you."

"There is no need for you to interrupt your shopping on my account. I will be away from everyone shortly."

"I am not in desperate need of anything at the moment," Legolas replied with a smile. "And as I said, I am not concerned about the shoppers. I said I would check on you to see how you were doing, and I would like to see how you are adjusting to the new house."

"Very well," Dimoriel said, starting towards the end of the market street where she had left Sulinte. She did not seem overly thrilled at the thought of his company, but he was the prince. She may not have much respect for the king's advisors, but she would maintain her respect for the royal family.


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm a little sad this story isn't as popular as my others. I know it's not as much fun and isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I wrote the ending the other day and I am super excited about it. Anyway, just had to vent. Thanks for getting this far! Enjoy!_

* * *

Dimoriel and Legolas rode in silence. Dimoriel had no desire to strike up a conversation, and Legolas was trying to think of a topic of conversation that would encourage Dimoriel to actually hold a full conversation, instead of replying in short, emotionless statements as she usually did. When he failed to come up with one, he settled on the first topic to pop into his head.

"How has Lendis been doing with the transition?"

"Fine," Dimoriel replied, just as Legolas expected she would. He repressed the urge to sigh and continued.

"My offer still stands, you know. If you need anything, you have only to ask. Is there anything at all that you are missing that would make you feel more comfortable?" He expected her to reply with a tart, "no thank you," but she surprised him.

"Actually, I find myself in need of a saddle. This one is starting to fall apart. Would you know where I can purchase a new one?"

"Certainly," Legolas replied, glad they were finally conversing. "If you would like I can bring the saddle maker out tomorrow so he can take measurements and talk to you about what you would like."

"That is not necessary. If you tell me where he is, I will stop by later this week."

"His shop is outside the royal stables."

Dimoriel was silent. Legolas could tell she really did not want to go that close to the palace if she could help it. He had suggested bringing out the saddle maker because he knew she was not going to be please to hear where she would find him.

"Very well. He can come tomorrow if he is free."

They both fell silent again after this. Legolas was grateful to finally see the small house appear through the trees.

"I see you managed to get rid of most of Lithiril's furniture," Legolas commented as Dimoriel led him inside. He was rather surprised that Lithiril had not forced Dimoriel to keep more chairs. He immediately noticed the lack of seating around the main room. He also noticed the empty feeling he got walking in. After seeing what Dimoriel lived in before, he knew it had a long way to go before it started feeling like a home for the elleth.

"I didn't need it all. Having chairs only encourages company."

"I see," Legolas said, trying to ignore the vibe he was getting from Dimoriel, who clearly would have liked nothing more than for him to leave. "I'm sure after you fill it with the things you bought today it will look more like home."

"It will never be my home," Dimoriel said softly, her back to him as she stood at the stove.

"I know it isn't ideal, but I am sure it will get better."

Both elves looked out the window abruptly as they heard hooves and voices from outside.

"Lithiril, Duarthon," Dimoriel said, opening the door and letting the newcomers in. There were more people in her house than she ever expected, and with only two chairs, she and Legolas remained standing as Lithiril and Duarthon sat at the largest table.

"I am surprised to see you here Prince Legolas," Lithiril said with a smile.

"I ran into Lady Dimoriel and Lord Maenthol at the market earlier. Maenthol does not appear to have listened to your advice, Duarthon."

"For someone who is suppose to offer advice, he is not good at taking any," Duarthon observed, seemingly unsurprised by the news. "He was most reluctant to listen to me when I spoke to him."

"He is a male, and you all have a habit of being stubborn and bullheaded," Lithiril said pleasantly. The corner of Dimoriel's mouth twitched as she smiled softly, while Duarthon raised his eyebrows at his wife."

"This coming from the elleth that forced me to go to the market last week just because you had purchased 'the wrong peppers'? They are peppers, Lithiril. It makes no difference what color peppers you put in your soup."

"It does make a difference!" Lithril said, looking exasperatedly at her husband. "Those ones were far too bitter."

"If you say so, _limimaer_," Duarthon said, looking up at Legolas and rolling his eyes.

* * *

Dimoriel was glad to see Legolas, Lithiril, and Duarthon leave that evening. She did not mind having Lithiril and Duarthon visit, but Legolas made her nervous. She got the feeling he was watching her closely, waiting for her to have another fit. No doubt he was put up to it by King Thranduil. Her close call in the marketplace had put her on edge all evening.

She was less than thrilled to see Legolas riding towards her house the following morning, a dark haired elf close behind him. She had been in the process of planting some of her newly purchased plants around her house when the elves appeared through the trees. Standing up and wiping the dirt off her hands, she nodded respectfully at Legolas before turning her attention to the saddle maker.

"Good morning, my lady," he said pleasantly, dismounting his dapple gray horse. "I do hope we are not interrupting."

"No, I was just organizing my new plants. Thank you for coming all the way out here."

"My pleasure. I am Himmen, by the way."

"Dimoriel," she replied with a polite smile. "If you give me a moment, I will fetch my saddle."

She had spent a few days the previous week constructing a small shed for Sulinte and his tack. While the horse was off in the forest somewhere, it took her little time to find her saddle in the back corner and return to the waiting elves.

"This is an interesting piece," Himmen said, taking it from Dimoriel and examining it. Legolas, who had yet to say anything, sat on the front steps, watching silently as Himmen ran his fingers along the patterns in the leather. "Where did you get this?"

"Gondor. I have been repairing it for many years, but I think it is time I replaced it."

"I am impressed. This is indeed an old saddle. I am surprised it lasted as long as it did. Very well crafted though, and your repairs were done by skilled hands. You did them yourself?"

"I learned some leatherworking many centuries ago. It was necessary for me to be able to craft things on my own."

"You did a fantastic job. Now, are you looking for something similar?"

Dimoriel and Himmen talked about details for over an hour, straying off topic every once in a while before returning to the matter at hand. Himmen was impressed with Dimoriel's knowledge of leatherworking, but Dimoriel was keen to make sure the saddle was made to her exact specifications. She composed a list of details for Himmen which she handed to him as he got ready to leave.

"It will take a few weeks, my lady," Himmen said as he put her list in one of his saddlebags before mounting. "If you think of anything else, feel free to stop by my shop."

"Thank you, Himmen," she said, holding her old saddle as she looked up at him. He waved goodbye before trotting back towards the palace. Dimoriel turned to return her saddle, and was slightly surprised to see Legolas standing by her door. She had forgotten he was there.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Prince Legolas?" she asked, walking around her house to put her saddle back.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything else before I leave," he said, following her to the shed.

"I appreciate your help yesterday, and in bringing Himmen here, but shouldn't someone else less important be assigned to babysit me?" she asked tartly, not looking at him as she put her saddle back. "You need not worry about me going where I shouldn't. I am quite content to stay put for now."

"I am not babysitting you," Legolas said, though truthfully he felt a bit like a babysitter, assigned to keep her out of trouble and away from Men. "As I said, I want to make sure you are comfortable."

"So I don't wander off and cause trouble," Dimoriel said, turning to him finally and crossing her arms over her chest, obviously not convinced he was being honest with her. "Your father is making you come out here, isn't he?"

"No," he replied, though he could tell Dimoriel saw straight through his lie. "He only told me that you are welcome to stay here as long as you please."

"Provided I behave myself and refrain from killing anyone," Dimoriel added, her tone getting increasingly bitter. "I report to Duarthon at least once a week. There is no need for you to come all the way out here and patronize me."

"I am not patronizing you."

"Do not lie to me, Prince Legolas. I know what you and your father think of me."

"Do you?" Legolas said, his own voice rising in anger. "Please, enlighten me."

"All I am is a broken vessel that will burst and take out everything and everyone near me. You are just here for damage control."

"That is not true. As you said, I am too important to waste my time on just damage control."

"Deny it all you like. I know how you people see me." Dimoriel spat out the last sentence venomously, scowling darkly at Legolas. He returned the look, his own eyes flashing dangerously.

"Very well, since you obviously want nothing to do with me, I shall refrain from poking my nose in your business any further, my lady," Legolas replied with equal hostility. "Good day." He turned and stalked away, mounting Caranghir and galloping away without looking back. Dimoriel felt slightly guilty as she watched him disappear, but brushed it off as she returned to her work. She had little doubt that her assessment was an accurate one. She did not need someone treating her like an unstable child.

* * *

"You seem particularly grumpy today," Duarthon observed as he placed a pile of parchment on Legolas's desk. Legolas had been staring out the window, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, but he looked around at Duarthon when he spoke.

"What makes you say that?"

"A moment ago you had a dark scowl on your face. What is wrong?"

"Nothing important," Legolas said, leaning forward and pulling the documents closer. "No news from Mithrandir yet?"

"I have heard nothing," Duarthon replied, watching as Legolas continued tapping his fingers on his desk subconsciously. "Is that what is bothering you?"

"No, I was just making sure you hadn't heard any more news."

"Does this have to do with Dimoriel?" Legolas glanced up again before his eyes returned to the parchment.

"Why would you think that?"

"Well you went to see her this morning again, did you not? How did it go?"

"Fine. She will be getting a new saddle in a few weeks to replace her old one. She got along quite well with Himmen."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing."

"We have known each other for a long time, Legolas. Your tone gives you away. What happened?"

Legolas was silent, his jaw clenched as he stared at the parchment on top of the stack. Finally, he sighed, returning to his work without looking up.

"It appears my presence is disagreeable to Lady Dimoriel. She requested that I stop checking up on her. She informed me that she does not need a babysitter and that I was patronizing her by pretending to be looking out for her when I was really just there on my father's orders."

"You were though," Duarthon said, wondering why this bothered Legolas so much.

"Yes, but I was also trying to be helpful. She was rather rude about it."

"I don't know what you expected. She is a solitary person and obviously has no problems speaking her mind. Do not worry; I will keep an eye on her."

"I know you will," Legolas said, sitting back and looking out the window again. "I guess I just wasn't expecting her to be so hostile about it."

"She's had a rough start here. Once she gets more settled she may calm down a bit."

Legolas nodded silently. He was quickly getting tired of his inability to know which of Dimoriel's personalities he would face each time he saw her. It wasn't like he did anything to her that morning, he just asked if she needed help. He was slightly envious of Duarthon, who did not appear to be having any of the same issues with her as he was. It was probably largely because of Lithiril, but Legolas still was not pleased about this problem. He still had not told King Thranduil about it yet either. Hopefully, the king would agree to Duarthon watching her. But he was resentful that now he was not going to get the chance to piece together the mystery of Lady Dimoriel.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7! Enjoy!_

* * *

Lithiril was sitting in Dimoriel's living room when the two elleths heard a knock on the door.

"Were you expecting someone?" Lithiril asked in surprise. Dimoriel shook her head, putting down her teacup and walking over to the door. She opened it curiously, but immediately scowled when she saw who it was.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am sorry, my lady, but I offered to bring your saddle to you when Himmen told me he was going to deliver it this week. I had to talk to you again."

"What is going on?" Lithiril said, noticing the hostility that was radiating from Dimoriel. She stood up and came to the door, where Lord Maenthol stood, a pleading look on his face as he held out a beautiful black leather saddle.

"Lord Maenthol was just leaving," Dimoriel said, taking the saddle from him and putting it down on the nearest table. "Thank you for delivering my saddle."

She tried to shut the door on him, but he stuck his foot in the doorway to hold it open.

"Please, just give me five minutes to make my case. If you want me to go away after that, I will leave you in peace."

"You have five minutes," Dimoriel said, eager to be rid of the annoying elf. She did not bother to offer him a seat, instead leaving him to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while she and Lithiril returned to their seats.

"As you know," Maenthol said quickly, determined to say his piece before Dimoriel threw him out. "I am a scholar and a librarian. I have written over a hundred books on a plethora of subjects, from flora and fauna of Middle Earth to the dwarf wars. Lately, I find myself lacking inspiration for a new book. Then the king informed me that you had come down from the mountains. You have some rare and valuable knowledge, Lady Dimoriel. I understand that you may not want to talk about some of this knowledge, but if you let me I would like to begin writing about some other things that will be acceptable to you. For example, you must have a great deal of knowledge regarding the southern half of Mirkwood and the mountains, which I would love the chance to write about, perhaps writing a report for the King to use as the spread of evil continues northward. Or perhaps you would allow me to write about your experience living in solitude. Or about your knowledge of the kingdoms of Men..."

Dimoriel let Maenthol ramble for a while, spouting ideas of things he could write about with her help. He mentioned a handful of things that she most certainly would not agree to being published, but some things he brought up were not so sensitive. She could certainly explain the current status of the southern wild, and she could explain in simple terms the systems of government within the world of Men. She was even willing to explain the political situation before and after the wars in Gondor.

When Maenthol finished his speech, Dimoriel sat in silence for several minutes, staring over her teacup at a point on the floor to Maenthol's left. Lithiril watched her silently, unsure what to expect.

"I will only agree to help you on one condition, Lord Maenthol," she said finally, looking up at him. "No details of my personal life will be published. If you have any knowledge of my past, you are not to publish it. Not one word. Understood?"

"Oh yes!" Maenthol said excitedly, his face lighting up eagerly. "I swear I shall keep anything directly about you out of print. Thank you very much, my lady."

"Also know this: I am not going to the palace for any reason, you are allowed to come by in the afternoons every other day, and you are not to use this as a way for the king to keep an eye on me."

"Of course not," Maenthol said, looking horrified at the idea. "After Prince Legolas told me to leave you alone, the king requested I follow his advice. He does not know I am here."

"If he finds out about this project of yours, then I expect you to keep your word and not use this as an excuse to spy on me. Now if you don't mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of my tea in peace."

"Certainly, certainly. I will see you tomorrow afternoon then, Lady Dimoriel. Lady Lithiril." Lord Maenthol bowed low before retreating back out the door, leaving Dimoriel and Lithiril to themselves once more.

"I am surprised at you Dimoriel. You could have been rid of him for good if you just said no."

"I highly doubt Lord Maenthol would have actually refrained from pestering me, despite his word. He also told Prince Legolas that he would leave me alone, and yet he came here once more. As long as he does not begin prying into my life, I suppose sharing my knowledge will not be so terrible."

"Yes, but you are now going to have to spend many weeks with Lord Maenthol grilling you about dull and boring topics for his books. I have read some of them. They are very dry." Dimoriel gave a half smile, her emotionless eyes meeting Lithiril's.

"I suppose that's a good thing. If he does print something that I do not like, there is little chance of someone actually reading it."

* * *

Dimoriel sat out on her porch the next day as she waited for Lord Maenthol to arrive. She had no doubts he would arrive shortly after noon, considering she had not given him a specific time to arrive and he would want to maximize his time interviewing her. She was not disappointed.

"Good afternoon, my lady!" Maenthol said cheerfully as he rode towards her. "How are you today?"

"Fine," she replied, standing up and watching as he dismounted his horse. "What do you want to know first?"

"I thought I would let you decide. I am open to whatever you would like to talk about."

"Since it is the most pressing issue, I can tell you more about the south of Mirkwood. I have some maps inside."

"Excellent," Maenthol said enthusiastically, following her inside.

Dimoriel fished through the maps and charts she had on her desk, ignoring whatever Maenthol was saying, his cheerful and enthusiastic tone starting to grate already. Instead she focused on finding the proper maps. She had edited several of the copies she had purchased from Nedulmir at the book shop, updating them with her own information collected from centuries of living in the southern half of the wood. Pulling these out, she interrupted Lord Maenthol, who had somehow gotten himself on the topic of dwarf architecture.

"Here, this is my most detailed map of the south. I have marked Dol Guldur and Rhosgobel, as well as the minor paths that were not included on the map before. Here," she said, pointing to a spot just north of Dol Guldur, "is where the largest concentration of spiders are located. I have seen them travel as far north as the Old Forest Road."

"Dear me, that far north?" Maenthol said, eyes wide as he looked at the map. "Rhosgobel is awfully close to Dol Guldur, is it not?"

"Radagast has lived there since long before the dark magic moved into the fortress, and will continue to do so long after it is gone."

"What is this?" he asked, pointing to a smudged symbol to the east of the fortress.

"That is where the wargs largely gather. They roam most of the forest south of the mountains, but they meet at this point. Different packs tend to stay relatively close to these areas…"

* * *

Dimoriel spent several hours explaining her various maps to Maenthol. He poured over them eagerly as she pointed out the terrain and locations of important features. Maenthol scribbled notes on a scrap of parchment, noting every detail she shared. Dimoriel was mildly impressed with his enthusiasm. She had assumed he was there mostly for the sensational stories of her own past, but he seemed genuinely interested in the locations of deer paths and seasonal creeks. By the end of the day, Dimoriel was actually starting to like the elf.

"This is all very fascinating," Maenthol said as he picked up his assorted notes and the maps Dimoriel was letting him borrow for the next few days. "I look forward to my next visit. It is a good thing you agreed to every other day. I will be busy all day tomorrow organizing this information. You don't know how much I appreciate the help."

"Yes, well, I am not sure what else I can tell you about the south. Do you really think it is necessary for you to return?"

"Absolutely! Once I get the details organized, I will undoubtedly have questions. If you are willing, I would like to get started on a situation report next time that I can present to the king in the event we need to send elves south. I've been told that Mithrandir will be coming sometime soon to lead an expedition to Dol Guldur. I am sure the King will be pleased to have some information before he sends the Home Guard down there. And then there are all the other topics that I would love to get your input on."

"I am sure," Dimoriel said evenly, following Maenthol to the door. "I suppose I can offer my assistance."

"Fabulous!" Maenthol said, turning to look at her as he stood on her doorstep. "I will see you in a couple days then!"

"Goodbye, my Lord," Dimoriel said, shutting the door behind him as he practically skipped down her steps to his horse, arms full of parchment.

Sitting down at her table, Dimoriel sighed. Maenthol's excitement and enthusiasm were exhausting. Leaving the mess, preferring the look of clutter to a nice orderly desk, she stood up again and started making dinner and tea. She only hoped she would get used to Lord Maenthol's personality. It was going to be a long few weeks if she had to recover after every visit.

* * *

"How did your first interview go?" Duarthon asked as he sat across from Dimoriel. She was visiting her friends for her weekly dinner with them. She looked up from her meal at the elf.

"Exhausting, but not as bad as I had expected," Dimoriel said honestly. "Is Lord Maenthol perpetually cheerful and overly excited?"

"Generally, yes, at least from my limited experience with him. He loves to write and spend time in his books, but cannot get enough of stories from people who actually go out into the world. I feel like he would rather live vicariously than have experiences of his own."

"I am not sure I will get use to that."

"It should get easier, do not worry. He will probably maintain the same level of enthusiasm, but I am sure you will become accustom to it. You adapted to living here fairly quickly, after all."

"Perhaps, but neither of you have such strong personalities," Dimoriel said with a sigh. "I guess I should be grateful he hasn't started prying into my life. His interest in the prevalence of squirrels to the south was somewhat surprising."

"Like I said, he cannot help himself. It is how he gets his thrills. I suppose that is why King Thranduil keeps him in his inner circle. He knows almost everything that has been written down in the past thousand years, and can remember obscure facts from something he read centuries ago. I do not understand how he does it, but I am sure it is a useful skill."

"I'm just glad you are getting along at all," Lithiril said with a smile. "Personally, I wasn't impressed by his speech the other day."

"You did say you wanted me to interact more, and this is the easiest way," Dimoriel said with a shrug. "I don't have to leave my own house and I can talk about nonsense instead of my personal life."

"When you put it like that, it seems like a very good arrangement indeed," Lithiril said with a laugh. "I wish you luck tomorrow writing that report for the King.

* * *

Legolas lounged on a couch as he read a financial report that had recently arrived from traders to the south. It was incredibly dull reading, and he found himself drifting off as he read yet another list of goods being shipped north the following week along the River Running. He started violently when he felt something move in front of him.

"What is this?" he asked, looking up at his father before his eyes fell on the report that had just been placed on his lap.

"I want you to study this carefully. Mithrandir could arrive any day now, and I want to be prepared. You will be traveling south with him when he gets here, leading a host of elves, so I expect you to have all the details memorized."

"What is this?" Legolas repeated, eyes scanning the cover. In scrawling tengwar were the words _Situational Report on the Current Status of Southern Mirkwood_. "Where did you get this?"

"Lord Maenthol gave this to me this morning. Apparently he went against your advice and has been working closely with Lady Dimoriel over the last couple weeks. The two of them wrote this report."

Legolas stared at the document. Surely his father was kidding. The last time Lady Dimoriel and Lord Maenthol had interacted, the latter had almost found himself on the sharp end of an ax. Not only had he gone against Legolas's request, but he had somehow coerced the elleth to assist him in his work.

After the initial shock dissipated, Legolas began to feel the same resentful feeling he had experienced the last time he spoke to Dimoriel return. She had accused him of spying for his father, but now she was working closely with one of his father's most trusted advisors? She was infuriating in her double-standards and mood swings. He was about to get up and go confront her about it when he remembered his father was standing there, watching him closely.

"Are you alright?" he asked the younger elf, his brow furrowed.

"Sorry, yes, I am fine," Legolas said, regaining his composure. "I was just surprised. I did not think Lady Dimoriel would agree to talking to Lord Maenthol, let alone work with him repeatedly on something like this."

"Yes, well, the important thing is that they did. I want you to read this over very carefully. If there are any issues, talk to Lord Maenthol. I know you are not particularly fond of him, but he is in good standing with Lady Dimoriel and is a useful resource to connect us with her."

"I thought you did not want her around," Legolas said, restraining himself from using a harsher tone with his father.

"She is proving useful, and has of yet not caused any trouble," Thranduil said dismissively. "We will see if that continues to be the case."

Legolas was feeling particularly irate at that moment, and chose to excuse himself instead of getting into an argument with the king. He wasn't sure who he was more irritated with, the king for his last comment about Lady Dimoriel, or the lady herself for causing him so much frustration. He had never cared for Lord Maenthol, but the fact that the elf was getting the chance to piece together Lady Dimoriel's mystery before him was particularly maddening. He glanced down at the report in his hand as he made his way towards his own quarters to read in solitude. Legolas felt a small measure of satisfaction as he thought briefly about Dimoriel going into one of her fits and attacking Maenthol. It would serve the nosey elf right. Legolas should be the one working beside Dimoriel, not the useless academic. What did Maenthol and Dimoriel have in common? Absolutely nothing.

As he reached his rooms, he walked quickly to his balcony window and looked out over the forest. A light breeze cooled his anger. Autumn was coming. With the autumn came the harvest, and with the harvest came endless piles of paperwork for the king's advisors. Feeling slightly better, knowing that soon Maenthol would be forced to abandon his work with Dimoriel, Legolas turned to his desk, sitting down to begin reading the report.


	8. Chapter 8

_Part 8! We are getting to the good stuff finally. Hope you like it, and please review! Enjoy!_

* * *

Dimoriel laughed. It wasn't just a soft chuckle, but a real laugh. She could not remember the last time she had laughed. The sound was foreign to her ears. But still, she laughed.

Three weeks into their work sessions, Dimoriel and Maenthol were discussing the cultures of Men for the latter's book on the history of Gondor. She smiled as he finished telling her about a story he had heard about a man from Dale that drank too much Dorwinion wine.

"Suffice to say, I don't think he ever looked at a chicken the same way," Maenthol said, chortling softly. "Anyway, I apologize. What were you saying?"

"I don't even remember now," Dimoriel said, grinning. "You managed to successfully distract me from everything we were just talking about."

"I need to stop doing that," Maenthol said with a sigh, looking down at his notes to see if there was anything to hint at what they had previously been talking about. "I suppose we can just call it a day and pick this up later."

"That is fine with me," Dimoriel said, standing up from the table they had been working at. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Not tonight, I'm afraid. I have some work to do for the king. The harvest is starting soon and I have a lot of work to do. I may not be able to stay for a full afternoon anymore either."

"That is too bad," Dimoriel said, genuinely disappointed to hear this. "Let me know if anything changes."

"I will, don't worry," Maenthol said with a smile as he put the last sheaf of paper in his bag. "I know you generally avoid festivals, but I think you should try and come to the Harvest Festival. It will be a lot of fun. Music, dancing, games…I think you would like it."

"I remember going many years ago," Dimoriel said, thinking back to the last time she went, shortly after she returned from Gondor. She remembered the feeling she had of isolation and of being unclean as she walked through the crowds of elves laughing and singing joyously. She had not realized how bad her mental health was at that point, but she felt a level of anxiety there among the colors and noises that she was not eager to feel again. The bright oranges and yellows reminded her of the fires that burned down town after town in Gondor, and the shouts and laughter reminded her of the Wainriders' enjoyment at the utter destruction they caused as they swept across the plains. She shuddered thinking about it.

"Are you alright?" Maenthol asked, concerned at her silence.

"Yes of course," she said, smiling up at him, though she could still feel the memories fighting to get free. "I will think about it. I cannot promise to make an appearance, but I will use the next few days to think about it."

"I suppose that is better than nothing," Maenthol said with a grin. "Goodnight, Dimoriel."

"Goodnight," she replied, shutting the door behind Maenthol. She fought to repress the memories that had rekindled in the back of her mind. The Harvest Festival. She put her head in her hands as she sat heavily in her chair. She wished she could be normal and go. When she was just a young elfling, she had loved the Festival. She loved trying to best her brother at archery and to dance with her father to the cheerful music. Had it been long enough since Gondor for her to go without risking another episode? She must have been fairly close last time, considering her level of anxiety. One more trigger and she may have lost it.

Maenthol wanted her to go. She had become quite attached to the elf in the last month. His perpetual good mood was infectious, and he had not once pressed her for personal details of her life. When not discussing his work, they talked about books, food, what part of the forest was their favorite, who knew more about this or that. Perhaps with him to keep her relatively calm, she would be able to go.

Standing up, she decided to go seek advice from Lithiril.

* * *

"Good evening Dimoriel! What brings you out here tonight?"

"Evening, Lithiril. I was wondering if I could get your opinion on something."

"Certainly, come in," the elleth said, stepping back to let Dimoriel into her house. "Duarthon isn't home yet, but I am making dinner if you would like to stay."

"I do not want to impose," Dimoriel said, taking a seat at the table where she could watch Lithiril work in the kitchen.

"Not at all! You know you are always welcome here. So, what is on your mind?"

"Lord Maenthol has been asking me to go to the Harvest Festival."

"That sounds like fun. You should go. You haven't really left your house much in the last month or so."

"I know, but I had some problems last time I went. It was right after I returned from Gondor, and I very nearly had one of my fits. The bright colors and the shouting reminded me too much of the wars."

"That is too bad, I do love the Festival. Has enough time passed that it will be better this time around?"

"I do not know, honestly. I started having flashbacks just thinking about it."

"I know you really like spending time with Lord Maenthol, but I am not sure you should force yourself into something like that. Perhaps you should just give it more time. Wait until you are ready."

"Ready for what?" Duarthon walked into the room, hanging up his cloak as he looked over at Dimoriel. "Good evening, Dimoriel. What brings you here?"

"We were just discussing if it was a good idea for her to go to the Harvest Festival," Lithiril said, kissing her husband before returning to the kitchen. "I think it might be a little too much all at once."

"Too much stress?" Duarthon asked sympathetically as he sat across from Dimoriel in his usual spot.

"I went right after I returned from Gondor," she explained again. "It was not a good idea at the time."

"I hate to have you miss this just because of that," Duarthon said thoughtfully. "Especially if you do want to go."

"I use to really enjoy it," Dimoriel admitted as Lithiril laid out dishes. "Maenthol has been asking me to go for a week now."

"How about this," Duarthon asked, leaning forward. "Lithiril and I will be going in the evening after I return from the palace. Why don't you go with us for a while, and then we can see how it goes. If you have a problem, I'll be there to make sure things don't get out of hand, but you can still enjoy yourself if there isn't a problem."

"That sounds reasonable," Lithiril said, sitting down at her spot next to Duarthon.

"Alright then," Dimoriel said with a small smile. "But I do not have anything to wear."

"Oh do not worry about that," Lithiril said cheerfully. "I will take care of it."

* * *

Dimoriel was nervous about the festival. She had informed Lord Maenthol that she had decided to attended, and he had enthusiastically launched into a longwinded account of the history of the Festival, occasionally interjecting with comments like "you are going to love it" or "just wait until you see it". The entire time he was talking, she was thinking about all the things that could go wrong. When she went to see Lithiril the afternoon of the Festival, she was thinking about just telling the other elleth she wasn't going and returning to the safe solitude of her house.

But Lithiril would hear nothing of the sort, insisting that Dimoriel try to be social, if only for a little while.

"You have been doing so much better lately," Lithiril said earnestly. "The only reason you are nervous is because you've been telling yourself that something will go wrong. Try being positive about it."

"Alright, I'll try."

"Excellent. Now follow me. I have a dress you can borrow that I think will suit you well."

Dimoriel followed Lithiril into the guest room, where a dark red dress with golden trim was draped across the edge of the bed. Lithiril smiled as she picked it up and showed it to Dimoriel.

"I had to find something seasonal, and I thought this color would go well with your hair. Speaking of which…"

"What's wrong with my hair?" Dimoriel asked, playing with a ringlet self-consciously.

"Nothing, dear, but I think we should do something new with it. You only ever have it down with those feathers in it."

"It is easy to manage that way," Dimoriel explained as Lithiril handed her the dress.

"Be that as it may, I think I want to try something different, if you'll let me. Get changed and I can get started. Duarthon will be home in less than an hour and then we can head out."

* * *

Duarthon arrived home just after dark, and found his wife standing behind Dimoriel as the elleth sat in a chair. Lithiril had an intense look on her face as she braided Dimoriel's curls, which did not appreciate being forced into a new configuration.

"You look like you are in pain, _melamin_," Duarthon said humorously as he stood in the doorway.

"Fighting nature is not the easiest thing in the world, you know," Lithiril replied without looking up. "It is amazing I have been able to do anything at all."

"How are you this evening, Dimoriel?" Duarthon asked with a smile. The elleth looked up at him with a slightly terrified look.

"I have been better," she replied simply, wincing as Lithiril pulled roughly on her hair. "I will be glad when this is over."

"I am sure. I will go change and then we can head out, provided Lithiril doesn't try and start all over with your hair."

"I am almost done," Lithiril said, finally looking up at her husband with an un-amused glare. "Stop your teasing and just go change."

Several minutes later, Dimoriel felt the tugging on her hair cease.

"There, all finished. What do you think?" Dimoriel stood and looked in the full-length mirror next to the door.

"Wow, Lithiril. I do not think my hair has ever been so under control." Her hair no longer fell in a wild mass of curls, but was pulled back in three different braids. The large one in the middle was fed by the two on either side which started above her ears, and together the three were braided down her back.

"I can believe it after the fight we had," Lithiril replied with a laugh. "Duarthon! We are ready to leave."

"I'm coming," he called back, appearing a moment later wearing golden-yellow robes with dark orange embroidery. He and Lithiril matched perfectly, as she wore a loose, gauzy gown of pale yellow and orange.

Together the three elves began the long walk to the festival. Dimoriel grew more and more nervous the closer they got, and she started biting her lip and wringing her hands, trying in vain to think of something other than what could go wrong if the sights and sounds set her off. Lithiril noticed her nervousness and came back to take Dimoriel's arm comfortingly.

"Stop worrying so much. I won't leave your side until we are sure you are going to be alright. It will be fun, you will see." Unable to speak, Dimoriel just nodded, taking a deep breath as she began to hear the music and laughter coming from the Festival.

Lithiril gripped her arm tighter as the two of them stepped out onto the Festival grounds, Daurthon a step ahead of them. All around them were elves talking and laughing, elflings darting around between the legs of their elders, and music was being played in every corner while elves played games or just feasted and drank wine. Dimoriel tried not to focus on the sensory overload she was experiencing, trying instead to think about the reassuring feel of Lithiril's hand on her arm.

"Come," Lithiril said softly. "Let's go sit down for a minute while you adjust." Dimoriel nodded, letting her friend lead her over to a nearby table. Duarthon disappeared for a moment, reappearing with some wine.

"Here, see if this helps," he said, handing a goblet to Dimoriel. She took it gratefully, taking a swig and letting the liquid warm her insides as it ran down her throat. Even that small feeling calmed her significantly, and she sighed as she looked at her surroundings.

"It hasn't changed much since I was here last," she said off-handedly.

"I am not surprised. I have never heard anyone complain after the Festival. The king sees no reason to change things, and everyone is happy. Oh, there is Legolas. I will be right back," Duarthon said, disappearing into the crowd.

"How are you feeling now?" Lithiril asked as Dimoriel took another swig of wine.

"Quite well, actually," Dimoriel admitted. "The wine helps. Thank you for putting up with me, Lithiril."

"My pleasure," Lithiril said with a smile. "I am just glad you are getting out and about for a change. It will do you a world of good."

"Lithiril! So good to see you!" Dimoriel looked up as a blonde lady came up behind Lithiril. They exchanged pleasantries as a couple walked up to the table and greeted Lithiril as well. The four elves began talking happily as Dimoriel watched in silence. After Lithiril introduced her, she was largely ignored, which was fine with her. She drank her wine quietly, waiting for Lithiril to finish talking with her friends.

* * *

"There you are Duarthon. Where is Lithiril?" Legolas asked, looking around for the elleth.

"She is over there sitting down with Dimoriel while she gets use to the Festival atmosphere," Duarthon explained, gesturing towards his wife. Legolas glanced over there, but could not see anything through the crowd.

"Lady Dimoriel is here?" he said in surprise. "How did you manage that?"

"I didn't," Duarthon said with a smile. "Lord Maenthor talked her into coming."

"Did he?" Legolas said pleasantly, though Duarthon noticed a slight hitch in his voice. Others may have missed it, but Duarthon recognized the change in his friend's tone at the mention of the other elf. "Well I am glad she is trying to enjoy herself."

"Would you like to join us as we walk around? You must be getting bored, standing here talking with all these nobles."

"Thank you, but no," Legolas said with slight regret. "I don't think Lady Dimoriel would appreciate my company. I will have to find some other way to entertain myself."

"If you change your mind, you are welcome to join us," Duarthon said, putting his hand on Legolas's shoulder. "I will see you later, then."

"Alright," Legolas said, watching Duarthon squeeze through the crowd as he made his way back towards his wife. Legolas craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of Dimoriel, still not quite believing she was there. But there was a crowd of elves around the table Duarthon stopped at, and he couldn't see the elleth anywhere. Giving up, he turned to join in a conversation with his father's agricultural minister, who was going on about the apple harvest that season.

* * *

Dimoriel walked around with Duarthon and Lithiril for several hours. Every once in a while, they would stop to talk to friends, and Dimoriel would stand awkwardly next to them, trying not to get drawn into a conversation that would get too personal. Lithiril did a good job heading off any potentially dangerous questions that were directed at her, but Dimoriel noticed several pairs of curious eyes watching her during these exchanges. She held her anxiety in check, even managing to smile at some of the games going on.

"You should sign up for the archery contest, Dimoriel," Lithiril said encouragingly as they passed an archery range, where young elflings were competing enthusiastically. "It is always one of the highlights of the evening."

"I think I'll pass," Dimoriel said, watching a tiny elleth try and pull back a bow that was at least a foot taller than she was. She smiled as the elleth managed to shoot an arrow several feet in front of her, coming nowhere near the target. It had been a long time, but she remembered when she had a similar problem, trying to outshoot her elder brother.

"We can still watch it," Lithiril said as they continued walking. "It is always impressive to see how far some of the Home Guard can shoot. Prince Legolas won a couple years ago, didn't he?"

"Yes he did," Duarthon said with a grin. "The only reason he doesn't win every year is because he doesn't always compete. I think he is going to participate again this year, so I'm not sure it will be much of a contest."

"I don't know, Penderyn shot very well last year. I'm sure if you decided to try you could put up quite a fight as well, Dimoriel."

"I am a fair shot, yes, but I don't know if I am that good," Dimoriel said smiling at the complement. She was not too enthusiastic about having to watch Prince Legolas compete after their last meeting, but it would be far worse to have to compete against him. "I think I'll just observe this time."

"Lady Dimoriel!" The elves turned to see Lord Maenthol waving from a table over near where King Thranduil stood talking with his court. Dimoriel was hesitant to go so near the King, but since he had yet to meet her and did not know what she looked like, she decided to go join Lord Maenthol.

"If you need anything, we'll be on the dance floor," Lithiril said before her husband steered her away. Dimoriel smiled at them before making her way towards Maenthol.

"Good evening Dimoriel! How are you liking the festival?"

"I am enjoying myself," she said truthfully. It wasn't as fun as it was when she was little, but she was not nearly as stressed as she had been on her last visit.

"I am glad to hear it. You look beautiful, by the way. I must say, you look very proper."

"I don't expect I will dress like this again anytime soon," Dimoriel said with a smile as she sat beside him. "It is far too much work."

"It suits you though. I do have some bad news, however."

"What is that?" Dimoriel asked, concerned.

"I am afraid I won't be able to continue meeting with you for awhile. We are expecting an exceptionally abundant harvest this year, but early snow falls as well. I have a great deal of work to do in the next month and cannot spare time with my personal endeavors."

"That is unfortunate," Dimoriel said sadly. "But I suppose it is good that we have such great harvests."

"Yes, best to look on the bright side of things," he said with a grin. "Speaking of the bright side, I want to introduce you to someone. Wait here for a moment."

Dimoriel watched as Maenthol rose to go find whoever he was looking for. Dimoriel sat alone at her table, looking around at the lords and ladies milling about. She quickly looked away when she caught sight of Prince Legolas standing only a few yards away, talking to some finely dressed lord. He was standing facing her, and she immediately felt eyes upon her after she looked away. He must have noticed her watching him. She was saved from having to try ignoring his gaze as Lord Maenthol returned, a dark-haired elleth behind him wearing a green and yellow gown. Dimoriel stood to greet the new comer, feeling a strange heat in her chest as she met the elleth's golden eyes with her grey-green ones.

"Lady Dimoriel, I would like you to meet Lady Faencol. Faencol, this is Lady Dimoriel."

"I have heard so much about you," Lady Faencol said with a warm smile. "I know how much it means to Maenthol for you to share your knowledge with him."

"Of course. I am happy to be of service," Dimoriel said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"He wouldn't stop talking about all the things you have done. I am amazed that you actually fought in wars in Gondor. That must have been awful. I am just glad that he gets his adventures from books and stories. I couldn't bear it if something happened to him." She smiled up at Maenthol as he kissed her temple.

Suddenly, Dimoriel snapped. Her jaw and fists clenched as the sights and sounds of the festival flooded in on her. She couldn't ignore the loud laughter, the bright colors, the flames of the torches surrounding her. Memories of the war washed over her, images of beheaded soldiers and internal organs bleeding on the ground filled her mind. She had just enough control to smile once more at Maenthol and Faencol.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," she said through gritted teeth. "But I really should be going. Goodnight." She quickly turned and walked away, looking for the quickest way out. As soon as she reached the darkness of the forest, she picked up the hem of her skirt and began sprinting away into the darkness as the madness took hold.


	9. Chapter 9

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Dimoriel's exit had not gone unnoticed. Legolas had been watching her exchange with Lord Maenthol from the corner of his eye. When he saw her sitting at the table, looking determinedly away from him, he had been astonished at her transformation. All her wildness seemed to have been removed. She looked like a proper lady, dressed in her dark crimson gown, her hair expertly braided. As soon as Lord Maenthol had approached her, he felt his teeth clench, trying not to watch them interact, but unable to help himself. He managed to hold a seamless conversation with the elf next to him while also carefully observing the elves conversing nearby.

He didn't know what was said, but something happened that made him instantly stop talking. He could feel the change coming from Dimoriel despite the distance. He turned to look at her, ignoring the elf asking if he was alright. Through gritted teeth, Dimoriel said something to Lord Maenthol and his companion, before turning on her heels and walking quickly away. Fearing the worst, he quickly excused himself and followed her.

He had almost reached the forest when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"What happened?" Duarthon said, voice full of concern, Lithiril standing behind him anxiously.

"I am not sure. She was talking to Lord Maenthol and Lady Faencol and one of them must have said something to set her off."

"We need to go make sure she doesn't hurt herself," Duarthon said, following Legolas as he made for the trees. "She is probably heading for her house."

The three elves began running in the direction of Dimoriel's home, Legolas in the lead with Duarthon and Lithiril close behind. They had run about halfway there when they heard an animal-like shriek off to the north. Legolas stopped abruptly, turning towards the sound.

"That has got to be her," Duarthon said, pausing briefly before the three of them switched directions. The shrieks got louder as they ran deeper into the woods. They were far away from any dwellings by that point. Dimoriel must have had enough willpower to get herself away from others before completely breaking down. This was little consolation, however, as she was without a doubt doing severe damage to herself instead.

Legolas stopped abruptly again as he spotted Dimoriel through the trees, standing near a stream that had undoubtedly halted her rapid flight. She let out another shriek and flailed angrily at a nearby tree. A flash of metal in the moonlight indicated she was once again armed as she attacked the tree viciously.

"She has a knife, Legolas," Duarthon cautioned as Legolas began walking slowly towards the enraged elleth. He nodded his understanding, his eyes on Dimoriel. Her dress was in shreds, torn by her flight through the dense undergrowth and her wild flailing with the knife. In the moonlight, what remained of the gown no longer looked like a deep, warm red. It looked angry, blood red, blending in with the real blood that was dripping from the new wounds on her arms and legs. She turned towards Legolas, her eyes not seeing him as she slashed at a pile of stones near the stream, sending sparks flying. Her face was lit by the moon, her face filled with madness, a demonic look to it as the shadows played across her features.

"Do something," Lithiril pleaded, her hands over her mouth as she watched in fear as Dimoriel flung the knife into the river, picking up jagged rocks and throwing them everywhere as her shrieking continued.

"Dimoriel," Legolas said softly, still walking slowly towards her, ducking whenever a rock came close to his head. "Dimoriel, you need to calm down."

As before, she acted like she had not heard him. She turned away from him to grab another rock, giving Legolas the chance to lunge forward and pin her arms to her sides. Duarthon attempted to get near enough to take the sharp stone away, but she kicked out at him. Legolas grabbed her wrist, forcing her to drop the rock, but he paid the price for letting go of her right hand. Her fist came up and hit him square on the jaw. Grunting in pain, he grabbed her other arm and dragged her away from the rocks.

"Duarthon, hold onto her for a second," he said roughly, shifting his grip to keep her from kicking out as the other elf drew closer. Duarthon managed to get a hold on her as Legolas let go, backing up out of her reach as he pulled out his own knife and began cutting strips of fabric from his tunic. Ignoring her shrieks and attempts to pull free, Legolas tied her ankles together tightly before moving on to her wrists, which he tied behind her back as Duarthon let go.

Breathing heavily, the elves stepped back, watching Dimoriel writhe on the soft ground, still emitting her high-pitched screams.

"What do we do now?" Lithiril asked, her eyes wide at what she was witnessing. Duarthon put his arm around her as she stood trembling in fear beside him. Neither of them was concerned with the blood and dirt that now covered both their clothing. Legolas touched his jaw gingerly, knowing that in the morning it would be sporting a dark bruise.

"We wait," he said, eyes still on Dimoriel. "She will wear herself out and fall into unconsciousness, then we can take her back home."

"I understand her reluctance to be around people now," Lithiril said softly. "I had no idea it was this bad."

"She'll be alright," Duarthon said, kissing his wife's forehead to reassure her. "I would just like to know what set her off."

Legolas nodded, sitting down on a root to wait out Dimoriel's fit. He had a hunch he knew what had set her off, but didn't voice his opinion. If he was right, it was unlikely Dimoriel was going to share the story with him.

* * *

When Dimoriel finally slipped into unconsciousness, Legolas carefully undid her bonds, picking her up gently so he could carry her home. Lithiril and Duarthon walked behind him, quietly conversing about what they should do to help Dimoriel when she woke.

Lithiril carefully opened the door for Legolas when they reached the house so he could carry her inside and up the stairs. Duarthon went to make tea for when she woke as Lithiril followed Legolas upstairs to Dimoriel's room. As he crossed to the bed, Legolas noticed the small wooden chest sitting in the corner underneath a stack of books. He brushed his curiosity aside as he focused on the injured elleth.

"Poor thing," Lithiril said, looking down on Dimoriel's limp form as Legolas put her on the bed. "She will need a healer."

"I doubt she will go to one," Legolas said, examining the extent of her wounds for the first time. She had a number of small cuts on her legs and feet, but they had already stopped bleeding. He brushed some of the mud off her calves to make sure there was no more damage there, before taking in the damage on her hands and arms. Her scarred knuckles sported a number of new cuts, though none as severe as the last time he had cleaned her up. Her hands were badly cut from the rocks, and she had managed to cut her thigh with the knife before she threw it away.

"Go and get some water and I'll get started on her wounds," he said authoritatively, ripping some of the shredded fabric off the bottom of her gown so he could get to the cuts on her legs easier. Lithiril went across the hall to the washroom, returning with some towels and a bowl of water.

Legolas began carefully cleaning off the dirt and blood on her arms and hands as Lithiril pulled a chair to the bed and started cleaning her legs. The worst was the cut on her thigh, which needed stitches. Lithiril found a sewing kit and began working on the gash once she had cleaned the wound.

She was about halfway done when Dimoriel began shifting, letting out a soft moan.

"I will be downstairs if you need anything," Legolas said, standing up to leave. He had a feeling Dimoriel would be more willing to talk with Lithiril if he was not present. Lithiril nodded, continuing her work as he returned downstairs to wait with Duarthon.

* * *

Dimoriel groaned, opening her eyes with a hiss as she felt a sharp pain in her thigh.

"Sorry, I am almost done," Lithiril said softly from her left. Dimoriel looked around at the elleth sitting beside her.

"How much of that did you see?" Dimoriel asked, leaning back and closing her eyes.

"Enough," Lithiril said, glancing up at Dimoriel. "I am sorry you had to go through that."

"It isn't your fault," Dimoriel said, feeling a pain that had nothing to do with her injuries as she said this.

"What happened?" Dimoriel was silent, wondering how to explain to Lithiril what had set her off.

"It is hard to explain," she said finally, wincing as Lithiril stuck the needle through her skin once more before tying it off. As Lithiril sat back in her chair, Dimoriel sat up on the bed, glancing down at herself to see the extent of the damage.

"Try?" Lithiril asked, concern in her voice as she looked up at her friend. Sighing, Dimoriel struggled to find the words to explain her recent outburst.

"I guess I didn't know the extent of my own feelings," she began softly, looking down at her recently wrapped hands. She felt tears in her eyes as she fought to continue. "I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised that Lord Maenthol was betrothed, but I wasn't prepared for it. I really did like him, Lithiril. He was so kind to me. But when she told me all that he had shared with her, I couldn't take it. She knew everything about me. It was clear she knew everything the king had shared with him and more. Never once had he spoken about her to me. I guess that shows how close we were. Or weren't, as it turns out. She brought up Gondor, and I guess that was what triggered it. I couldn't take it. I felt my control slipping, so I ran while I could. Please tell me I got far enough away that no one got hurt."

"No, you were far from the Festival when you lost control," Lithiril said sympathetically. "The only person you hurt was yourself. Well, you did manage to hit Legolas pretty hard in the jaw, but he will be fine."

"Prince Legolas was there?" she asked, feeling worse.

"He noticed you were starting to slip, so he followed to make sure you were alright."

"More to make sure I got far enough away not to hurt anyone else," Dimoriel replied bitterly.

"You shouldn't judge him so harshly, Dimoriel. He was just concerned you would seriously hurt yourself. Even after we got away from the Festival, he still wanted to make sure you were alright. He was the one to keep you from doing any real damage to yourself. He carried you back here and cleaned you up. He and Duarthon are waiting downstairs to make sure you are alright."

"He is just following his father's orders," Dimoriel said softly, still looking at her bandaged hands. She could tell Legolas had been the one to tie them.

"His father has more important things to do than send his only son to watch you," Lithiril said with a half-smile. "He is genuinely concerned about you. Anyway, Duarthon made tea if you would like me to get you some. You should probably go to sleep soon. You've had a long day."

"I won't sleep tonight," Dimoriel said, standing up to find something else to wear. "Sorry about your dress, by the way."

"I have plenty of dresses, I am not worried," Lithiril said, watching as Dimoriel got a thin tunic and leggings out of her closet and began changing, moving slowly to keep from reopening any of her wounds. "But you really do need to sleep. It will help the healing."

"It isn't that I don't want to," Dimoriel said, grunting as she pulled the tunic over her head with difficulty. "I just can't. I will fall asleep for a little while, and inevitably I have nightmares that make me wake up screaming, unable to go back to sleep."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so," Dimoriel said sadly. "The only time it didn't happen was after my last attack, when Duarthon and Prince Legolas were with me in the mountains. I don't know why I didn't have the nightmares though. I cannot explain it."

"I am sorry, Dimoriel," Lithiril said, standing up as Dimoriel sat back on her bed. "Do you want that cup of tea?"

"Please," Dimoriel said softly, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. "It will help me go to sleep for a little while, anyway."

* * *

Lithiril returned to the bottom floor, where Legolas and Duarthon were sitting, waiting for news.

"How is she?" Duarthon asked solemnly.

"She will be alright," Lithiril said with a smile. "I am just going to make her a cup of tea and then let her try and sleep. Poor dear says that she never sleeps through the night after these attacks."

"She did last time," Duarthon said, confused. "I am pretty sure she didn't wake until dawn."

"She said that was the only time she had never had them, but she didn't know why. She is pretty sure that the nightmares will return this time."

"Legolas," Durathon said, turning to him. Legolas looked up from the table he had been staring at intently. "You sang to her that night, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," he said softly.

"Do you think that is what stopped the nightmares?"

"It is possible," Legolas said, unsure of himself. "She was whimpering in her sleep and I thought it might help."

"I think we need to test this," Lithiril said, holding out a teacup and saucer towards him. "Go talk to Dimoriel about it."

"I don't know," Legolas said doubtfully. "We are not on the best of terms at the moment."

"This could help get you back on good terms," Duarthon said encouragingly. "It doesn't hurt to ask."

"Alright," Legolas said with a sigh, taking the cup and saucer from Lithiril as he stood. He slowly climbed the stairs and knocked softly on Dimoriel's door.

"Come in," she called through the door. He opened it slowly, eyes falling on her propped up against the headboard, her head down as she read a book on her lap. She looked up, her eyes surprised as he walked towards her and put the tea down on her bedside table.

"Prince Legolas," she said softly, watching him sit down in the chair next to her bed.

"Lithiril says that you are expecting nightmares when you sleep tonight," he said softly, not entirely sure how to explain himself. Dimoriel was silent, watching him closely. "Do you remember anything about the night up in the mountains after your attack?"

"Nothing specific. I remember waking up surprised because I had not woken up screaming in the middle of the night."

"You started whimpering not long after you had fallen asleep. You were restless, turning back and forth. I could tell you were having nightmares."

"That is normally what happens. Dark images of the past haunt me, growing more and more vivid until I wake up screaming at how real they are. But last time…" She paused, her face screwed up as she thought. "Last time, just as the nightmares were starting to get bad, they faded. A soft light appeared instead. What happened?" she asked, her curiosity peaked now. Legolas stared at the book in her bandaged hands for a moment, before looking up and meeting her eyes.

"I started singing."

"Singing?" Dimoriel said in surprise. "That is all?"

"Yes," Legolas said softly. "That is all. I know we are not on the best of terms right now, but I would like to try again, if you are alright with that."

"You want to try singing to stop the nightmares?" Dimoriel asked, not quite believing him. "Why?"

"Though you chose not to believe it, I do want to help you. If you'd like, I will sit here tonight and keep an eye on you. Not because my father wants me to, but to help you."

Dimoriel was silent, staring at him. She seemed to be trying to determine if his offer was genuine. He did not look away, determined to convince her that he meant every word.

"Very well," she said finally. "We can go up on the balcony. You can lie on the couch and I will try to sleep in my hammock."

"Whatever makes you comfortable," he said, standing up. Dimoriel swung her feet off the bed, standing slowly and picking up the teacup and saucer delicately. "I will go tell Duarthon and Lithiril that I am staying." Dimoriel nodded, exiting the room and climbing the stairs to the upper floor as Legolas proceeded down the stairs to the living room.

"So? What is the verdict?" Duarthon asked, standing as Legolas descended the staircase.

"She is going to let me stay. She is going to try sleeping in the hammock on the balcony tonight."

"I hope this helps," Lithiril said nervously. "A good night's sleep will certainly do her good."

"I hope so," Duarthon said, making for the door. "She has had a rough day."

As Duarthon and Lithiril departed, Legolas climbed the stairs once more, exiting onto the balcony where Dimoriel was lying curled up in a blanket in her hammock. The couch was off to the side, several pillows and a blanket stacked at one end.

"Do you need anything from downstairs?" Legolas asked, looking at Dimoriel as he stood in the doorway. She shook her head, so he made his way over to the couch, organizing the pillows so he could sit propped up, looking at Dimoriel.

"I am sorry," she said softly as he worked, making him pause and look around at him.

"For what?"

"Everything. For being rude and difficult all the time. For being ungrateful for everything you've done for me. For punching you in the face earlier."

"Lithiril told you, did she?" Legolas asked, rubbing the tender spot on his cheek.

"I can already see a bruise forming," Dimoriel said softly as he sat down on the couch.

"It isn't the first and it won't be the last," he assured her, pulling off his boots and leaning back, his lanky form taking up the entire length of the couch. "It will be gone in a few days."

"Did I do that to your tunic too?" she asked, looking down at the frayed end. "I noticed my knife was missing."

"You threw your knife in the creek," Legolas explained, looking around at her. "I'll try and find it tomorrow. And no, I did this. I didn't happen to have any rope on me to keep you from doing more damage to yourself."

"I am sorry," she said again, looking at the opposite end of the hammock as he took off his damaged outer tunic. The light green one he wore beneath it shimmered slightly in the moonlight. "But thank you for making sure I didn't do more damage, and for cleaning me up."

"You're welcome," Legolas replied, settling back onto the couch. "I am glad we were able to catch up to you before you hurt yourself further. Bloody knuckles and shallow knife wounds I can heal. If you had stabbed yourself or broken a leg, it would have been harder to fix. I would have had to take you to the palace to see the healers."

After a moment of silence, Dimoriel continued her apology.

"I am sorry for making you miss the archery contest this evening, too."

"In all honesty," Legolas confessed. "I had forgotten about it. As much as I enjoy them, it isn't as much fun when everyone expects you to win. It's more thrilling to be the underdog and surprise everyone. I remember the first time I did it. No one expected me to get as far as I did."

Silence fell between them for a while. Legolas closed his eyes, enjoying the cool autumn breeze on his face. He was glad that Dimoriel was at least speaking to him. His bad mood from the last month was starting to dissipate just having her talk normally with him again instead of using her hostile tone.

"I thought he was different."

"Pardon?" Legolas asked, looking around at Dimoriel.

"Maenthol. I thought he was different. All the times he came over, he never once asked about my past. But he just talked about it at home instead. With her."

Legolas was silent. She hadn't said it explicitly, but she had said enough for him to understand what had really set her off. She hadn't known about Faencol. Clearly she had strong feelings for Maenthol, which were not reciprocated. If he had known, Legolas would have warned her about him. But all this time he had been telling himself that Dimoriel was helping him grudgingly, and that she didn't actually like him at all. He felt guilty now, knowing that his silence had upset her.

"I am sorry for not warning you about him," he said, trying not to say anything to suggest he understood her full meaning. "I just didn't think you would actually help him after he had bothered you the first few times. I didn't think you would believe me anyway."

"I should have trusted you," Dimoriel said softly. "I am just paranoid that everyone looks at me like the monster I am."

"You aren't a monster," Legolas said, looking around at her again. "You can't help what happened to you."

"I did terrible things in the war," she said bitterly. "Things I cannot forgive myself for."

"It is in the past now," Legolas said, trying to sound comforting. "It is best just to let those things go."

"I would if I knew how," she said with a sigh. They fell into silence again. This time, Dimoriel fell asleep. Legolas watched her as she slept, hoping that he would be able to offer some small comfort. He knew he couldn't fix everything, couldn't take away the memories that haunted her, but he could give her a little bit of peace, just for a while. Instead of waiting for her to start tossing and turning like last time, he started singing softly not long after she fell asleep. For over an hour he sang, hoping that his voice was enough to stop the dreams from disturbing her for a moment that night.


	10. Chapter 10

_Part 10! Hope you like it. Enjoy!_

* * *

Legolas woke the next morning as the sun shone in his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he sat up, looking around at the hammock. Dimoriel was not there, so he rose and started down the stairs.

"Good morning," Dimoriel said as he entered the living room, where she was busy at the stove.

"Morning," Legolas said, taking a seat at the end of the cleanest table. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes," she said, her back to him. "I did not dream at all."

"I am glad," Legolas said, watching her work.

"I made eggs for breakfast," she said, sliding the eggs out of the frying pan and onto a plate. She turned around and walked over to the table, placing them in front of him.

"Thank you," he said softly as she returned to the stove.

Dimoriel was different this morning. She looked normal, dressed as usual in her green and brown tunic with her dark brown hair down in ringlets around her face, though she had not put the feathers back in. What he had noticed when she turned around was that her features had changed. They were softer, not as sharp and defined as usual. Like she was no longer had her guard up. Legolas was taken aback by this change, so sudden and unexpected.

"Do you want tea or water?" she asked, cracking a couple more eggs into her pan.

"Water is fine," he said, starting on the eggs in front of him. As he ate, he watched her move around the kitchen space. Her features hadn't been the only thing to change. Her bearing was different, more fluid and graceful. She was starting to look more like an elf, he realized, and less like a human warrior. While she had grace and poise before, she had always appeared more rigid and tense. Somehow, her walls were coming down.

After cooking another plate of eggs, she came and sat down across from him, eating slowly and looking down at her plate.

"Thank you," she said after a while. Legolas looked up at her again. She glanced up at him briefly before her eyes returned to her plate. "You don't know what it means to not have those dreams anymore."

"Of course," Legolas said softly, eyes following her fork as she ate. "I cannot say I understand what you are going through, but I understand how painful it can be to have to relive your past."

They finished breakfast in silence. As Dimoriel finished, Legolas stood, taking his plate and hers to the sink, where he started washing them.

"You don't have to do that," she said, coming over to stand next to him.

"Of course I don't. But I am going to anyway. And as soon as I am done, we can go find your knife."

"Do you think we will be able to find it if it went in the creek?"

"It isn't very deep. I don't expect it to have gone very far."

He finished cleaning the dishes quickly, and after fetching his damaged tunic from the balcony, he announced he was ready to go find her knife.

"How far away is it?"

"Not too far. It took about half an hour to get you back here after you passed out."

"If Sulinte is nearby we can ride him so it doesn't take so long," Dimoriel said, heading out the front door. She whistled loudly, looking out to the west. Moments later, Sulinte trotted out of the woods towards her.

"I can walk," Legolas assured her as she swung herself onto Sulinte's bare back.

"I am sure your father will be wondering where you are," Dimoriel pointed out as she looked down at him. "It would probably be best to hurry."

Knowing that she was right, Legolas leapt up behind her, settling onto the horses back. He wasn't sure how Dimoriel would react to him putting his arm around her for support, so he kept his hands to himself.

"Which way?" she asked as she shifted forward, either giving him more space to settle in or trying to keep her body away from his.

"That way," Legolas indicated, sliding forward slightly until he was more comfortable, but still not getting too close to Dimoriel. She softly urged Sulinte forward, trotting in the direction Legolas had indicated.

* * *

It was a short ride to the creek. Legolas slid off first, Dimoriel landing beside him.

"It should be in this area," Legolas said, walking towards the creek. Dimoriel looked around at the spots of blood around the clearing before following Legolas.

"There it is," he said, pointing to the knife, wedged between a couple rocks near the opposite bank. He started forward before Dimoriel grabbed his arm.

"Wait, it's my knife, I'll get it. Besides, you're still in your nice boots," she said, looking down at his light brown boots. She walked past him, carefully stepping into the river to get her footing before wading across to grab her knife. She quickly picked it up and returned to the bank where Legolas waited.

"That was easier than I expected," she said, stepping out of the water. Legolas smiled as she dried off the blade on her leggings.

"Now that that is settled, I should probably be returning to the palace, unless you need help with anything else?"

"I am fine," she said, putting the knife in her belt. "Why don't you take Sulinte back? It is a long way back to the palace on foot."

"I can manage," Legolas assured her.

"I am sure you can, but it will be a good deal faster on horseback. Sulinte can find his own way home."

"Are you sure?" he asked, seeing the logic in her argument but not wanting to deprive her of her mode of transportation.

"Of course. I know I wouldn't let you buy him, but I can certainly let you borrow him." Legolas smiled at this, looking up at the dark red horse.

"When you put it that way, I think I have to ride him," Legolas said, directing his smile at Dimoriel. "I will stop by tomorrow if I can to see how you are doing."

"Alright," Dimoriel said, watching him mount Sulinte. "Thank you again, for everything."

"My pleasure," Legolas said before turning Sulinte and galloping out of the clearing. Dimoriel started in the opposite direction, using her walk home to sort out her jumbled thoughts.

* * *

Legolas rode up to the palace gates, greeting the guards as he dismounted and patted Sulinte's neck.

"I was right to think you would be a wonderful horse," he said with a smile as the horse looked at him with big dark eyes. "But I am glad Dimoriel has you. I can tell you are happy where you are." He smiled as Sulinte snorted softly before the horse turned and began trotting off back into the forest. Legolas entered the palace, and was quickly set upon by a servant.

"Prince Legolas! Your father has been looking for you all morning."

"I am sure he has," Legolas replied with a sigh. "Where is he?"

"In his study."

He would have liked to have returned to his room and changed, but Legolas instead made for his father's quarters, knocking on the large wooden door before entering.

"Legolas! Where have you been?"

"I am sorry, ada, I had business to attend to last night."

"Does this 'business' have anything to do with Lady Dimoriel?"

"Yes," Legolas said slowly, wondering what his father was going to do with this information.

"Did she happen to have another attack last night?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, though I don't really need your answer because I can see you have a nice bruise on your jaw that answers for you." Legolas reached up and touched his jaw again, wincing as he touched the sensitive spot.

"She did have an attack, but it was handled. She got herself away from everyone else before anything happened."

"Not away from everyone apparently," King Thranduil said, eyeing the dark purple bruise on his son's cheek.

"This is only because I was preventing her from hurting herself," Legolas explained. "She did not attack me directly."

"I do not like that she is so volatile," the king said with a frown. "I thought you said this wasn't going to happen."

"This only happened because your advisor was poking his nose into her business," Legolas said angrily before he could stop himself. Thranduil raised his eyebrows at his son, clearly not liking his tone. Taking a deep breath, Legolas continued more civilly. "Lord Maenthor was talking about her at home and Lady Dimoriel felt betrayed after she had spent so much time helping him."

"Lord Maenthor will certainly not be bothering her again," King Thranduil said, sitting down at his desk. "And neither will you."

"Excuse me?" Legolas asked, surprised.

"I don't want you getting in the way of her fits again. What if she were armed? You could be killed."

"She has been armed both times," Legolas said before he realized this probably wasn't helping his case. "Duarthon and I disarmed her and restrained her without incident."

"Clearly not without incident, as you have walked away with injuries each time."

"Perhaps, but nothing serious," Legolas said casually. "The point is, I know how to deal with her fits. I can help."

"Duarthon should know how to handle it by now as well, then," Thranduil said, starting to go through paperwork, indicating his disinterest in continuing the conversation.

"Please, let me do this. I can keep her from having another fit."

Thranduil looked up at his son, who refused to look away from the king's piercing gaze.

"Very well," Thranduil said, looking down at his work again. "But if she has any more of her fits, you are not going anywhere near her again. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Legolas said with relief. He was just about to leave when his father spoke again.

"Is there a reason you were gone all night and returned with her horse?" he asked, eyes still running across the page he was reading. Legolas hesitated, his hand on the door, before he turned around again.

"She has nightmares after her fits. Last time, I sang to her like naneth use to for me, and the nightmares stopped. So I sang for her again last night."

Legolas watched as Thranduil flipped through more papers. He hoped that bringing up his absent mother might help his cause, but it could backfire just as easily.

"Don't make a habit of it," Thranduil said with the air of finality. Legolas bowed, turning and quickly leaving before his father could come up with anything else to say.

* * *

"You are particularly cheerful today. I take it you and Dimoriel are on good terms again?"

"Yes we are," Legolas said, sitting down for lunch with Duarthon. "I was actually rather surprised at how well things went."

"How is that?"

"We had a pleasant conversation last night, she made me breakfast this morning, she let me borrow Sulinte to return here after we retrieved her knife from the creek, and she did not complain when I offered to check up on her tomorrow."

"Glad to hear things are going so well," Duarthon said with a smile. "Mostly I'm glad that you are not moody anymore. For a while there I was considering avoiding you."

"Was it really that bad?" Legolas asked, concerned at how much his mood changed just based on his friendship with Dimoriel.

"It wasn't pretty," Duarthon said, starting on his lunch. "If you are going to check on her tomorrow, why don't you both join us for dinner? It has been a while since you stopped by."

"I would be happy to," Legolas said with a smile. "I don't imagine Dimoriel will say no either."

* * *

Legolas galloped through the forest the next day, enjoying the cool autumn weather. The leaves were beautiful shades of yellow and red, and it felt good to have an excuse to go out riding again. As Caranghir leapt over a fallen log, Legolas smiled appreciatively. It was days like this that made life worth living. As Dimoriel's home came into view, he saw her kneeling outside by her garden. He had been too preoccupied the last time he had come up to realize just how much had grown around the house since she had moved in just over a month before. It wasn't quite to the same level as her old house, but it was starting to look lush and wild.

Dimoriel looked up as Caranghir came to a stop behind her and Legolas dismounted gracefully. She stood with a smile, brushing her hands off on her tunic.

"Good evening," she said pleasantly.

"Evening," Legolas said, returning her smile. "I don't suppose you talked to Lithiril or Duarthon in the past couple days?"

"No, not since they left the other night. Why?"

"Duarthon asked us to join him for dinner tonight if that isn't too much trouble."

"Oh, alright," Dimoriel said, looking down at herself. "I guess I will go change and we can head over there." She disappeared inside, leaving Legolas to observe her garden. Elves naturally are gifted with magic that helps plants grow, but he was impressed with just how much had managed to grow in the short time Dimoriel had been tending the space around her house. Even the tree around which her house was built looked healthier, despite the leaves changing with the season.

Dimoriel returned quickly, dressed in a cleaner tunic. He noticed her hands were still bandaged, though they were much looser than when he had tied them.

"At some point I am going to have to see how your hands are healing," he said as she descended the steps.

"They are fine," she said, playing with the edge of the fabric as her attention was brought to the wrappings. "I just changed the bandages."

"I can tell," Legolas said, taking one of her hands. "They are not wrapped particularly tight."

"They'll be fine," Dimoriel said, taking her hand out of his and whistling, making him wince since he was not prepared for the sharp sound. Sulinte did not appear as he did the previous day.

"Looks like I am walking," she said, starting off towards Lithiril and Duarthon's home.

"Hold on a moment. You let me ride with you yesterday, the least I can do is return the favor for this short ride."

"I can walk. It isn't very far."

"I know, but I made you walk home yesterday so I insist you ride with me today."

"Very well," she said, letting him mount Caranghir. He held out his hand for her, which she took, wincing slightly as he pulled her up behind him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, noticing the wince.

"I'll be fine," she said, readjusting her bandages. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"Just be careful you don't make yourself bleed again. I had hoped there was enough padding it wouldn't be painful."

"I'm okay, really," she said as they started towards their friends' home. He felt her shift behind him, putting her hands on his waist as Caranghir started trotting. At least she was comfortable enough with him to make that small gesture.

They arrived at Lithiril and Duarthon's quickly, Dimoriel slid off Caranghir as soon as he stopped, Legolas quickly following.

"Good evening!" Lithiril called through the open window. "Come on in!" The elves quickly entered the house, taking seats at the table as Lithiril went to find Duarthon.

"Will you let me look at your hands now?" Legolas asked while their hostess fetched her husband.

"They are fine," Dimoriel repeated, hiding them under the table.

"Then at least let me tighten the bandages," Legolas said, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, Dimoriel put her hand in his so he could look at it. He gently unwound the bandage until he could see the cuts on her palm.

"They seem to be healing nicely," he commented, flipping her hand over to check her knuckles. "I think you'll live."

"Glad to hear it," Dimoriel said with a smile as he carefully wrapped the bandage again, much tighter than her own sloppy attempt. He then took her other hand and began unwinding the bandage. He was almost to her palm when he noticed blood seeping through the layers.

"I thought you said you were fine," he said, unwrapping her hand delicately until he could see the cuts that were once again oozing blood slowly.

"What's wrong?" Lithiril asked, returning to the dining room with Duarthon.

"I may have helped Dimoriel break the skin on her palm again," Legolas said, trying not to make her hand bleed anymore. "Do you have a clean bandage?"

"I'll get one," Duarthon said, disappearing for a moment before returning with a clean linen cloth. Legolas took it from him and began wrapping Dimoriel's hand once more.

"Let's try not to make it worse, alright?" Legolas said, grinning up at Dimoriel as he finished tying off the end of the bandage.

"Yes my lord," she replied pleasantly, meeting his eyes briefly before looking back down at her hand.

"Now that that adventure is over, who is hungry?" Lithiril said, setting a plate of roast chicken on the table.

It was a good meal with good conversation. The last time they all ate together, Dimoriel had barely said a word. This time, she joined in the conversation, smiling and talking with her friends. But at one point during the meal when she and Legolas were talking, she failed to notice a look passed between the couple across the table.

"Thank you for dinner, Lithiril," Dimoriel said as Legolas and Duarthon went outside, talking about their work.

"You are very welcome," the other elleth said with a smile. "I am just glad to see you and Prince Legolas getting along again. You seem much happier."

"I am just trying to be more grateful for his help. As you said, I shouldn't be so hard on him. I know now that he wasn't just trying to keep an eye on me on his father's orders."

"Good," Lithiril said with a smile, glancing out the window. "I think Legolas is ready to go. Goodnight, Dimoriel."

"Goodnight."

Dimoriel quickly exited the house, passing Duarthon as he came back in.

"So what do you think?" he asked, standing beside his wife as the she watched Dimoriel talk to Legolas briefly before he picked her up and put her on top of Caranghir, presumable to keep her from doing further damage to her hand.

"I think that we should not have left them alone the other night," Lithiril said, watching Legolas swing up into the saddle behind her. "I did not expect this."

"I had a feeling this would happen," Duarthon said, watching the stallion gallop down the path to Dimoriel's. "As soon as I realized Legolas's bad mood was connected to her relationship with Maenthor, I had my suspicions."

"You know I love Dimoriel, but I am afraid. This could end very badly for both of them."

"There is nothing we can do, _melamin._ There are both too headstrong to listen to any warnings we give them. It might only encourage them."

"I have never seen her so happy," Lithiril mused quietly. "When she looked at him, she was positively glowing."

"I think the biggest problem they face right now is the King. If he finds out, then there surely will be a long and heated debate in the palace."

"I hope that is the only problem they face," Lithiril replied, turning away from the window.


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11! I don't know about the rest of you, but I watched the Desolation of Smaug Fan Event last night (curse any of you that actually got to go to the event), and I find myself knee-deep in writing two new fanfictions; one is a sequel to _I Keep Looking For Something More_, which I promised at the end of that one, and a new one for Thranduil (casting Lee Pace as the elven king was perfect, in my opinion). For those of you who like my writing style in this one, you will probably like the Thranduil one more. It will have a similar tone to this one. I hope you will read it when I start posting it, probably around the time of Desolation of Smaug's release (to coincide with all the fangirls that will be desperate for Thranduil fanfiction after that. Anyway, enough of my ranting (I'm excited, can't you tell?), so enjoy the new chapter!_

* * *

Neither Lithiril nor Duarthon was surprised to hear that Legolas began spending several evenings a week at Dimoriel's house. What did surprise them was that the King didn't appear to be doing anything about it. Everyone in the palace knew Legolas was going off into the woods every couple days, though most assumed it was to get away from the craziness in Thranduil's halls that was keeping everyone busy with the harvest. Duarthon was fairly certain Thranduil knew exactly what his son was doing when he rode out into the woods.

As usual, Dimoriel would come over once a week for dinner with her friends. Over the next few weeks, she was almost always joined by Legolas, who only missed once because his father had him riding out to intercept a shipment coming in from the south. The couple noticed the difference in Dimoriel's mood between when she was there alone and when she came with Legolas. When Legolas was with her, her face was softer, she smiled more, and her voice was merrier. When he was not with her, her face would fall back into shadow, becoming sharper as her voice lost its cheer. She did not digress back to how she was when she first returned from the mountains, but there was a distinct difference between her bearing when the prince was with her and when he was not.

Dimoriel herself just enjoyed spending time with Legolas. It was different than with Maenthor. Whereas the latter had asked about trivial matters, she had real discussions with Legolas. They never talked about her past unless she brought something up, in which case he would listen patiently as she voiced her fears and doubts. He would inevitably say something when she was finished that would make her heart lighter. She had always sat inside pouring over books and charts with Maenthor, but with Legolas she could go riding, go on walks, or just sit out on her balcony talking for hours.

After several weeks of their companionship, Dimoriel found herself face to face with reality. She woke up in a cold sweat, screaming, her whole body shaking from the images she had just felt, so real and vivid. She couldn't explain what had happened, but her nightmares had returned, stronger than ever. But it wasn't until the second time she woke like this, several days after the first time, that she realized it was not just a fluke.

"I am frightened, Lithiril. I don't know what is making this happen."

"Nothing has triggered any episodes or caused you any anxiety?"

"No, nothing," Dimoriel said, running her fingers through her hair. "This has never happened before."

"Have you told Legolas?"

"No," Dimoriel said with a sigh. "I don't want him worrying about me and insisting on staying to make sure I don't have nightmares. He can't sit and watch me sleep every night, and since I don't know what is triggering them, I can't predict when they'll happen."

"I understand your reasoning, but I think he would want to know."

Despite Lithiril's advice, Dimoriel did not tell Legolas about the nightmares. But after two weeks of restless sleep, he noticed a change in her behavior.

"What is wrong?" he asked, watching as she stood by the stove, wearily stirring her stew.

"I am fine. Just a little tired," she said smiling in a futile attempt to convince him. He stood up from the table and walked over to her, gently cupping her cheeks with his hands to turn her face towards his. His eyes were full of concern as he looked into hers, searching for answers.

"You aren't tired, you're exhausted," he said, his concern growing as he noticed the dark circles below her eyes. "Have you not been sleeping?"

"I'm fine, really," Dimoriel said, pulling away from him and pouring herself another cup of tea. "I was just up late last night reading."

"I know full well you can go at least forty-eight hours without sleeping and still be able to function fully," Legolas said, not believing her for a moment. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," she said more firmly. Legolas noticed the hostility starting to creep into her tone. He had not heard it in over a month, and it only caused him more concern.

"Why won't you tell me what is wrong, mellonamin?" he asked, watching her closely as she stood with her back to him. She didn't look at him, and just stirred the stew in silence for a long time.

"I don't want you to worry about me," she said softly, her eyes focused on the pot in front of her.

"Dimoriel, I'm going to worry about you even if you don't tell me." She sighed, turning to look at him finally.

"The nightmares are back," she said, her eyes meeting his briefly before she looked down at his boots. "I don't know why. I don't have them every night, but for the last couple weeks, they have kept me up, whether I fall asleep and they wake me up or I can't sleep worrying about whether I will have them again."

"You should have told me," he said, reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear, making her look up at him. "I would have helped."

"I don't want you coming out here every night just to see if I sleep or not. You have a lot of work to worry about without worrying about me too."

"I still could come out and at least give you a few nights of peace. You know I will not be able to go back tonight until I am sure you get a full night's sleep."

"No, you have to. You have that shipment coming in tomorrow. You need sleep more than I do."

"Nonsense. I will be fine. I am staying, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

"Thank you, Legolas," she said after a short pause, smiling softly up at him.

"You know I would do anything for you," he said, pulling her into a tight hug, stroking her hair as she laid her head on his chest.

* * *

Dimoriel sat on her bed, leaning against the headboard. Legolas sat on the end, leaning against one of the bed posts as he speculated about what caused these new waves of nightmares.

"So you haven't had any problems with anxiety lately?"

"No, nothing. I haven't really gone anywhere except out on rides and to visit Lithiril and Duarthon."

"It isn't the anniversary of any major battle is it?"

"Not that I recall," Dimoriel said, thinking about it. "I suppose it could be, but that doesn't explain why it is happening now. I went many years without an attack or nightmares while I was up in the mountains."

"You don't think the new environment is causing it, do you?"

"I doubt it. I went through a number of moves before I ended up in the mountains, and never had a problem like this."

Legolas sat in silence, arms folded as he thought about all the potential causes of this new dilemma. After several minutes of silence, he finally voiced the one concern he actually saw as plausible.

"Could it be because the darkness in the south is spreading?"

"Do you think it is affecting me all the way up here?"

"I don't know, but what I do know is that there are elves further south that are starting to feel the effects. There have even been reports of wargs north of the mountains in the last few weeks. Perhaps you are just more sensitive to the changes because you have had trauma in the past."

Dimoriel pondered this in silence. He could very well be right. She had been feeling something pressing on her mind in the last few weeks, though she assumed that was a difference in air pressure as the weather started to get colder as winter grew closer. But maybe it was the dark magic seeping up from the south.

"Has there been any news from Radagast or Mithrandir?"

"No, not yet. I hope Radagast is alright."

"I am sure he is fine. As odd as he may be, he is an extremely capable wizard."

"I do wish that Mithrandir would get here soon though," Legolas said heavily. "My father is getting worried that we won't be able to stop the spreading darkness if we don't do something soon. We may have to go to Dol Guldur without the wizard."

"If you do go, I would like to go as well," Dimoriel said with determination. "You may have read my report, but I still know the south better than anyone."

"I am not sure I will be able to convince my father of that," Legolas said seriously, meeting her eyes. "It is quite likely he will say you are a liability."

"Well then I will have to ride south by myself and happen upon your group," Dimoriel said defiantly, making Legolas smile. He had no doubts she would do just that if given the chance.

"Either way, I will let you know when he arrives," Legolas replied. "You should probably go to bed now."

"If I can manage to drift off," Dimoriel said, sliding down into her bed as Legolas slid off the end. "Are you sure you'll be alright sleeping on the floor?"

"I will manage just fine," he said, sitting down so his back was to the wall, looking up at her as she watched him from the bed. "Goodnight, Dimoriel."

"Goodnight Legolas," she said softly before turning off the oil lamp beside her bed. Legolas shifted slightly, getting as comfortable as possible on the hard floor. Dimoriel had given him blankets and pillows, but he was going to make sure she was sleeping peacefully before he lied down. As he leaned back, his eyes fell on the wooden chest sitting in the corner. Repressing his curiosity, he instead started singing, hoping his voice would help her drift off sooner. It wasn't long before her breathing slowed, indicating she had fallen into a peaceful sleep. Legolas kept singing for a while, until he was sure she was sleeping peacefully. With one last look at the elleth on the bed, he curled up under the blanket on the floor, falling into his own peaceful sleep.

* * *

Legolas woke before dawn, glancing up to see Dimoriel still asleep before quietly folding the blanket and stacking the pillows. He crept downstairs, grabbing his gear and quickly exiting the house. He had to get back to the palace before his father woke or he would be in trouble.

"Don't forget about dinner tomorrow night," Dimoriel called down to him just as he swung himself up onto Caranghir. Smiling up at her as she stood on the balcony, he turned Caranghir towards the path east.

"I won't," he said cheerfully before galloping off. Dimoriel watched him leave before reentering her house to go make breakfast.

* * *

If Thranduil noticed his son's absence, he did not say anything. Legolas was put to work shortly after he returned to the palace, directing a handful of harvesting activities at once. He did his job enthusiastically, determined not to give his father a reason to suggest he stop visiting Dimoriel again.

Despite this, when Legolas was summoned to his father's office several days later, he was worried about what his father wanted. Upon opening the door, he realized his fears were unfounded.

"Good evening, Prince Legolas," Mithrandir said with a smile, looking at Legolas from where he stood beside the King's desk. Legolas smiled, bowing his head respectfully to the wizard.

"I am assuming you are here to help us with the issue of Dol Guldur?" Legolas asked, approaching his father and the wizard.

"I am. I apologize it took so long to arrive. I had business to the south."

"As I was saying, Mithrandir," the King said, standing so he could address his companions eye to eye. "I am prepared to send a host of elves down to the fortress with you. Legolas has already studied our situation and has chosen who will be joining you."

"I would appreciate the assistance. How soon can your guards be ready?"

"As soon as you need them, though I suggest you wait until morning, as I expect some heavy rains this evening."

"We shall depart at dawn, then," Mithrandir said. "Now if you will excuse me, I think I will head to dinner."

"I will join you," King Thranduil said, making his way towards the exit.

"I do have one request before we leave," Legolas said, making his father pause and look around, his hand on the door. "Lady Dimoriel has offered her assistance, as she is still the most knowledgeable about the region. Since she is not a member of the Guard, I felt I should ask your permission first."

"Do you think that is wise?" King Thranduil said, giving his son a hard look. "Her instability could prove dangerous in this situation."

"Be that as it may, her familiarity with the area may prove a valuable resource."

"If I may," Mithrandir said, interjecting with a smile. "Lady Dimoriel may be more useful than you realize, not just as a guide."

"Very well, you may send word to her that she is to be here at dawn."

"Thank you, sir," Legolas said, bowing to his father as he and Mithrandir left. Legolas had no intention of sending a message to Dimoriel. He quickly went to the stables and saddled Caranghir, riding out to tell the lady of the plan himself.

* * *

Legolas was unsurprised when Dimoriel did not arrive at the palace at dawn. Mithrandir rode up to him as they were about to depart, inquiring about her whereabouts.

"She will most likely meet up with us somewhere to the south. She steadfastly refuses to come within a league of the palace."

"Ah," Mithrandir said, smiling in understanding. "I should have known."

Legolas led the two dozen elves south from the palace, Mithrandir riding beside him. It was rough going for a while, as the rain from the previous night had turned all the paths into mud.

They traveled for over an hour before they came upon Dimoriel. She was perched atop Sulinte, dressed in her normal tunic and leggings, her bow, quiver, and sword strapped to her back. Her soft demeanor was gone.

"I took the liberty of scouting ahead," she explained, falling into formation beside Legolas. "While there are no wargs nearby, I did find tracks about a league to the southwest. They were several days old. I sent Lendis out to determine if we are going to run into any hostiles today."

"Excellent. Is the path any easier ahead?"

"About two leagues south the path becomes narrower. The mud should be less deep at that point."

"Thank you Dimoriel. Would you be willing to lead a scouting party ahead? We will need a place to rest the horses at midday, and a safe place to stay for the night."

"A tributary of the River Running cuts through the forest to the southeast. You should get there shortly after midday. I can lead a scouting party to the south at that time to determine the best location to camp."

"Very well. After we stop I will send you out with two guards."

"Yes my lord," she said, bowing her head before galloping back to fall into line beside Duarthon. It felt weird, such formalities, after how close the two of them had become recently. But this was official business, and the success or failure of the mission was on his head. He was grateful for Dimoriel's cooperation. She had agreed the night before to follow his authority, though she had made a point of saying she was not going to spend the entire time riding with group. He agreed to let her scout ahead, provided she did not disappear for days on end. It was a long journey south to Dol Guldur, and she would certainly get antsy and restless the closer they got to the fortress.


	12. Chapter 12

_One of my favorite chapters to write, so I hope it is as much fun to read. Enjoy!_

* * *

Four days after departing the kingdom, the host of elves camped along the edge of the forest in the East Bight. The next morning they intended to head straight through the thickest part of the forest, where the spiders and wargs were known to frequent. The camp was quiet that night, as all of them felt the darkness pressing in on them from all sides.

"How are you feeling?"

Dimoriel looked up as Legolas sat beside her, leaning his bow against the tree behind them. They were a fair distance away from the nearest camp fire and curious ears.

"Not well," Dimoriel admitted, looking back down at the piece of wood she was whittling. As much as she pretended not to notice, she felt the darkness intently in her mind. She had not slept the last couple nights, afraid of the nightmares taking hold once more. Whittling was her way of calming her mind, thinking of something else for a while.

"Have you slept at all since we left?"

"The first couple nights I slept a little bit. But I cannot sleep this close to Dol Guldur. I don't think even your singing will help at this point."

"Soon we can return north, hopefully after we have put an end to this dark force invading the wood."

"I hope so. I am not sure what I will do if the nightmares continue."

"You look tired, Lady Dimoriel."

"I will be fine," she said, looking up at Mithrandir. "I am just eager to rid the forest of this darkness."

"You feel it more than most," he said matter-of-factly. "If you'd like, I can try to ease your mind enough to sleep tonight."

Dimoriel glanced at Legolas who nodded encouragingly.

"Alright, if you think it will help."

"We shall see," Mithrandir replied with a smile, bending over her so his eyes were level with hers. "Try and relax."

Dimoriel closed her eyes as the wizard put his hands on either side of her head gently, mumbling something under his breath. It took a minute or so, but suddenly Dimoriel slumped sideways, fast asleep.

"What did you do to her?" Legolas asked, catching her as she slid sideways against the tree trunk.

"I gave her peace, for one night at least. The spell grows weaker the more it is used. Tonight at least, she will sleep well."

Legolas carefully stood, picking up Dimoriel and carrying her over to the fire where he had laid out his own blanket and gear. Duarthon sat nearby, and he looked up as Legolas approached, Mithrandir behind him.

"What happened to her?" he asked, voice full of concern as Legolas gently lay her down on the ground.

"Mithrandir put a spell on her to help her sleep," Legolas explained as the wizard sat across the fire, pulling out his pipe as he watched Legolas tend the sleeping elleth.

"Will it stop the nightmares?" Duarthon asked, looking around at the wizard.

"She will have a dreamless sleep tonight," he said, his eyes following Legolas as he carefully fetched her own blanket and put it over the elleth, brushing her hair out of her face as he stood. The prince sat down at her feet, looking across the fire, his eyes meeting Mithrandir's.

"It is a shame you cannot take away those dreams for good."

"Believe me, Prince Legolas, I wish I could. I was in Gondor for some of the wars Dimoriel fought in. No one deserves to be haunted by such images. War is terrible, but Dimoriel faced some of the worst carnage I have ever seen. I am not surprised that those memories return."

"Is there nothing anyone can do to help her?" Legolas asked, almost desperately.

"I am afraid it is up to Dimoriel to get rid of those nightmares. I can suppress them for a while, but she will have to be the one to permanently rid herself of the memories."

* * *

When Legolas woke the next morning, Dimoriel was gone. He looked around, expecting to find her near the forest, getting ready to ride, but she was not in the camp. The surprising part was Sulinte was still grazing nearby.

"She woke about an hour ago and went to scout ahead," Duarthon explained. Legolas looked around at him. The other elf was rolling up his blanket and packing his gear onto his horse. "She says that we are very near a gathering place for a pack of wargs. She wanted to make sure we didn't walk right through the center."

"Do you think it would be better if we all walked the rest of the way?" Legolas mused, staring at the forest thoughtfully.

"I think Dimoriel is the one you should ask about that. Or Mithrandir. He is over there if you want to talk to him." The grey wizard was sitting in a huddle of elves eating breakfast, talking merrily despite the task they were about to undertake.

"Mithrandir, may I speak with you a moment," Legolas called, standing up and straightening his tunic. The wizard looked around, smiling as he stood and approached the prince.

"What would you like to speak to me about?"

"I am curious what your opinion is regarding our next step. I am afraid horses may be too conspicuous, with all the wolves and spiders around, but we may need to get away from an attack in a hurry. What are your thoughts?"

"I think we are several days ride from Dol Guldur still. If we are to get into any fights, having horses will be a blessing."

"Perhaps you are right," Legolas said, watching the elves around the camp packing their gear.

"We ride in ten minutes," he said loudly so the entire camp could hear him. "Make sure you have water and food for the next few days. When we stop tonight we will not have fires to alert the enemy to our presence. Make sure nothing is left behind."

"What about Dimoriel?" Duarthon asked as they prepared to head out.

"She will find us," Legolas said confidently, going to fetch Sulinte. He led the stallion over to Caranghir, whispering a soft word to him before mounting his own horse. The elven guards quickly followed suit, falling in behind him. After taking one look around to make sure everyone was with them, he started west into the trees, the sounds of hooves quickly swallowed as the dense vegetation muffled their passing.

Sure enough, they had been riding for only a few minutes before Dimoriel dropped out of the trees onto Sulinte's back, the hawk Lendis quickly alighting on her shoulder.

"What news?" Legolas asked, not at all surprised by her sudden appearance. He heard whispers behind him, however, indicating some of the guards had been startled by her unexpected entrance.

Dimoriel didn't respond, as the group heard the cracking of twigs and the rustle of leaves heading rapidly towards them. Bows were drawn and swords unsheathed as the host came to an abrupt halt. Dimoriel, however, remained calmly in her saddle, unconcerned at the sound. It was quickly evident why.

"Radagast! I was wondering when you would show yourself."

"Gandalf, I am glad you are here," the brown wizard said, getting off his sled as Mithrandir dismounted and approached him. "It is as I feared."

"The Necromancer?" Mithrandir asked, voice full of concern.

"I believe so," Radagast responded solemnly. "As I told Lady Dimoriel, I fear there is a fight ahead of us if we try to enter the fortress. I entered not long after I sent word to you, and I saw a dark figure, Gandalf. A figure made of shadows and dark magic."

"We must hasten to the fortress and do what we can to drive him out of Dol Guldur," Gandalf said as he mounted his horse once more.

* * *

Somehow, they managed not to meet any wargs or spiders for the next day and a half, though multiple times they came upon webs stretched across the path that they were forced to go around. Legolas was grateful for this bit of luck, but Dimoriel only grew more and more nervous.

"We should have met at least three different wolf packs by now," she muttered softly as she rode next to Legolas. "And I do not like the fact that all of the webs we've seen were vacated."

"Let's hope our luck holds out," he replied, eyes on Radagast, who was leading the way through the forest.

"I don't think it is luck," Dimoriel whispered back. "I think we are walking into an ambush. There is no way we made it this far on pure coincidence."

"I agree," Mithrandir said, coming up on Dimoriel's other side. "We have a fight ahead of us, that is for sure. But we must press on. Dol Guldur is not far ahead."

Minutes later, Lendis appeared through the trees, landing on Dimoriel's outstretched arm.

"I was right, it's a trap," Dimoriel said quickly, looking up at Mithrandir as he turned towards her. "There are wargs surrounding us, and more than a hundred goblins waiting in Dol Guldur. We must stand and fight. We cannot make it to the fortress."

"Not all of us can, but Radagast and Mithrandir should be able to magic their way past the goblins," Legolas said, putting up his hand to stop the elves behind. "We will draw out the army and make a stand here. I doubt we will be much use against the Necromancer, but we can give you the time and the space to face him alone."

"Good luck," Mithrandir said before he and Radagast continued into the darkness of the forest.

"We will make a stand here," Legolas called back to the guard, turning to face them. "Everyone into the trees. We can still try and take them by surprise. Spread out and keep your eyes open. The enemy is close."

They left the horses on the path as they all pulled themselves into the trees, creating a wide ring in the canopy. Dimoriel looked up through the foliage above her, and saw the crumbling towers of Dol Guldur in the distance. The sky was dark here, despite the fact that it was only a few hours past midday.

The company did not have to wait long before the sounds of running wolves, snarling and growling, could be heard through the trees. Dimoriel's eyes were focused on the ground below, her face set and emotionless, the way Legolas remembered her at their first meeting.

"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, watching her closely from the branch he occupied only a few meters away.

"If there is one thing I do well," Dimoriel said as she saw the first wargs appear through the trees, her icy voice sending a chill down Legolas's spine. "It's kill."

Before Legolas could reply, she launched herself out of the tree onto the back of the nearest warg, drawing her sword and plunging it into the wolf's skull. As it fell forward, she did a summersault off of its back, pulling her sword free and slashing at another wolf as it leapt toward her. The wolf went down, its bottom jaw sliced off.

As much as Legolas wanted to watch this amazing display, he gave a sharp whistle instead, signaling the rest of the elves to enter the fray. He fired an arrow at a wolf that was running towards the nearest horse before dropping out of the tree and pulling out his silver knives, slicing up at a wolf as it ran by, causing it to stumble forward. He stabbed one blade it its neck, killing it instantly as he used the other to slash at another warg bearing down on him, his sharp knife cutting through the bone of its muzzle and through the eye.

Try as he might, Legolas could not both fight off the wargs and keep an eye on Dimoriel. Through the howling and growls of the wolves, he could hear her screams of rage cutting through the forest. At least she was still alive. But the waves of wolves continued, and he had little doubt that the goblins of Dol Guldur would soon be upon them as well.

* * *

It had been many long years since Dimoriel had fought in the Wainright Wars, but her muscles moved as if no time had passed. She vaulted over corpses and spun off of trees easily, her sword covered in dark red blood. Her jaw was clenched and her eyes fierce as she felt the bloodlust coursing through her body. She was quickly lost in the fight, her only thought to kill whatever came near her.

When the goblins finally arrived, adding their own screeches to the cacophony filling the woods, Dimoriel barely noticed. Her sword sang as she slashed at wolves and goblins alike. It never occurred to her that they were outnumbered ten to one, and that while her blade was slicing through goblin and warg flesh, knives and claws were slicing through her own as well. Her bright red blood mixed with the blood of wolves and goblins screaming around her as they fell.

Her blood-splattered face was contorted with pure hatred as she gave off a savage snarl, facing down a black male warg. It was not as eager to jump into the fight as its kin, dead at the elleth's feet. It circled her slowly, watching her slice at goblins that dared to get too close. As she spun around to behead a goblin that ran within her reach, the warg launched itself at her, bearing her to the ground, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. She screamed in rage and pain, kicking up at the warg's underbelly in an attempt to free herself. The warg squeezed her shoulder harder, picking her up and flinging her into a tree.

Something cracked as her body collided with the solid timber, but she was so lost in her madness that she ignored the pain, standing up to confront the wolf again. It snarled, baring its teeth. She snarled right back, her own teeth showing as she pulled out a short hunting knife. Somehow she had lost her sword in the melee. The warg's fangs were longer than her knife. Sensing her weakness, the wolf launched itself at her again, slashing out with its claws. Dimoriel leapt out of the way, throwing her knife at the wolf as she spun around, landing in a crouch on top of a pile of bleeding corpses. The knife caught the wolf in the side, but was not deep enough to kill it instantly.

Turning back to her, the warg started for her a third time, but she dodged once more, landing less gracefully on her side in the mud. She pushed herself up on her hands and knees just as the wolf came at her for the fourth time, not pausing in between attacks anymore. She was barreled over by the wolf, screaming in pain as her injured shoulder came in contact with a goblin helmet. The wolf stood over her triumphantly, his teeth dripping with blood and saliva.

She glared up at him, growling at him defiantly. As he opened his jaws to finish her, she grabbed the goblin helmet and shoved it into his open maw. He shook his head in surprise, trying to dislodge the metal object. Dimoriel grabbed a rusty goblin blade from the pile of corpses next to her. As the warg shook its head to the side, the helmet flying out of its mouth, Dimoriel gave an angry scream, slicing up with the crooked sword, cutting through the soft flesh on the wolf's neck.

As the wolf fell in a heap next to her, its blood covering her face and chest, she roughly pushed the body away from her, standing up slowly, her chest heaving. Ignoring the damage to her own body, she launched herself at a goblin that was running towards the heaviest of the fighting, knocking it off its feet as she rolled away, still clutching the goblin blade. The goblin stood and howled in anger, coming after her. Two other goblins ran towards her from the side. She rolled away from them, grabbing another loose sword, planting her feet as she skewered one of the goblins and slashed out towards the other two. Her sword connected with one blade as she dodged the other, kicking the dead goblin off her second sword.

She fought the two goblins, ignoring the blows they landed, until she slashed one across the chest and cut the other through the gullet, his intestines spilling out onto the ground. She stood over the last one as he writhed in pain, watching him suffer for several long moments. When she had enough, she took her sword and sliced off his head, which rolled away into a muddy hole below.

She looked up panting. The battle was over. What goblins and wolves remained alive had fled, while the elves started looking for their fallen, pulling them out from under the bodies of their dead foes. Her breathing slowed as the bloodlust faded, her vision clearing as she took in the carnage.

She was glad to see that nearly all the bodies filling the roadway were of goblins and wargs. Only a handful of elves could be seen, lying still among the black corpses. Dimoriel looked down at herself, covered in blood, both black and red. Suddenly, she felt lightheaded. Her eyes started to fall out of focus as she fell to her knees, swords slipping from her hands. The last thing she remembered was looking down at her hands, completely coated in red and black slime, before everything went dark.

* * *

_I realize I use warg and wolf interchangeably. I didn't like the way this read when it was just "warg warg warg" so I took the liberty of deciding they were close enough to use in reference to one animal. If any hardcore fans dislike that, I apologize, but I am not changing it._


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13! Enjoy!_

* * *

"Get the wounded bandaged up as quickly as possible. We need to get out of here before the enemy regroups!" Legolas called out, helping one of the guards extract a dead elf from beneath a pile of goblin corpses. They had found at least six dead so far.

"Legolas!" Legolas looked up at Duarthon's call. The elf was kneeling in a mud puddle about twenty yards down the path. Legolas finished putting the dead on the nearest horse before he made his way through the carnage towards Duarthon. He couldn't see what Duarthon had called him for until he was only a few yards away.

"By the Valar," he whispered, running the last few steps and falling to his knees, wiping away the blood and knotted hair that covered Dimoriel's face. She had obviously put up quite a fight. Her body was shredded in multiple places, white bone showing through the blood and torn flesh on her shoulder.

"She's still alive," Duarthon said quickly as Legolas looked her over carefully. "She needs to be treated now."

"Help me get her out of the mud," Legolas said, his anxiety growing the more he looked at her wounds. Duarthon helped him lift her carefully onto a dry patch of earth. "Get me some bandages."

As Duarthon ran off, Legolas tried futilely to wipe the rest of the blood off her face. She had multiple scars across her cheek from wolf claws that continued oozing as he put pressure on her bleeding shoulder to stem the flow there. He was amazed she was still breathing. Based on the number and extent of her wounds, she wouldn't last long if she lost any more blood.

"Don't die on me now, Dimoriel," he said softly, putting his hand on her forehead. Duarthon returned with a handful of bandages and a canteen of water. Between the two of them they cleaned and dressed the worst of her wounds.

"Prince Legolas! We have to leave. The wargs are returning from the south."

"Head north. We ride until we reach Rhosgobel. We can take care of the injured and bury the dead once we get clear of the worst of this." Those that were mounted began riding north as instructed, a handful waiting behind for Legolas and Duarthon as they finished tending Dimoriel. Duarthon picked her up carefully as Legolas mounted Caranghir, carefully handing the limp elleth to the prince. He held her to his chest, her head on his shoulder as he quickly turned and began galloping north. Duarthon paused long enough to pick up Dimoriel's discarded sword, half hidden among the dead, before mounting and following behind Legolas with the rest of the guards.

"What about the wizards?" one of the guards asked as the rode away from the fortress.

"There is nothing we can do about them," Legolas said, far more concerned about the dying elleth in his arms than the absent wizards. "If they escape Dol Guldur, they will know where to find us."

* * *

It was early the next morning, several hours before dawn, when they reached Rhosgobel. Duarthon helped as Legolas took the still unconscious Dimoriel off the horse and into the wizard's house. There were already a handful of elves being tended inside, while others had begun digging graves for their fallen comrades.

"She is failing," Legolas said, laying Dimoriel on table, his voice wracked with anxiety. "She has lost so much blood."

"I think she has broken rib," Duarthon added, noting a dark bruise that was visible through her tattered tunic. Legolas carefully cut away the shredded parts of her clothing. Despite the dire circumstances, he left part of her shirt wrapped around her chest for modesty. With the loose fabric gone, he could see her upper body was covered in dark bruises. Her shoulder was still the worst off, and he undid the wrappings around it to expose the damaged skin once more.

"See if you can find a needle and thread," Legolas said, examining the puncture wounds carefully. He took a bowl of water from one of the nearby guards and began cleaning away the blood and dirt from her body. This exposed even more cuts and bruises. He shook his head, muttering to himself as he ran his hands over the damaged areas.

"How bad is her back?" Duarthon asked, returning with more medical supplies, including a needle, which he quickly threaded and got to work sewing her shoulder back together.

"I haven't looked. There is so much damage on her front I hadn't taken the time to check."

"She must have some deep cuts, I can see blood running through the cracks of this table."

"Are you sure they aren't from her shoulder?" Legolas asked, starting to wrap up the claw marks on her right leg.

"Hard to tell, but it looks too low to be from her shoulder. Her rib might have punctured something."

"That's the last thing she needs," Legolas said, finishing the wrap on her leg and checking her ribs. She did indeed have a broken lower rib, but nothing looked or felt like it had been punctured.

"She needs a healer. I don't think we can fix this by ourselves."

"Perhaps Mithrandir or Radagast can do more, if they made it out."

"Do you want to wait?"

"No," Legolas admitted, looking up at Dimoriel's face once more. "We need to ride north as soon as possible."

"I'll wrap her shoulder, then you and some of the guards can start north. I will follow with the rest once we have buried the dead and the wounded are fit to travel."

Legolas nodded, but was interrupted as the door opened, the two wizards entering the house.

"What happened?" Legolas asked, standing upright to address Radagast and Mithrandir.

"We faced the Necromancer," Mithrandir said, obviously weary from the experience. "I do believe he has fled Dol Guldur."

"I see things did not go so well for you," Radagast said, coming over to look down at Dimoriel. "Dear me, she is torn to shreds!"

"But still alive," Legolas said, standing at the wizard's side. "Can either of you do anything for her?"

"She is lucky to be breathing," Mithrandir said, his hands hovering about an inch over her side. "This rib could have punctured her lung. It's amazing you got her here without making it worse."

"Can you do anything?" Legolas repeated in earnest, watching the grey wizard.

"I will try," Mithrandir said seriously as he started examining her numerous injuries. "It is best if you leave her to me. Go help your comrades. I will let you know when I am finished."

Reluctantly, Legolas turned away from Dimoriel as the wizard started muttering to himself, Radagast carefully examining the shoulder Duarthon had recently sewed back together.

"Mithrandir will make sure she stays alive until we get her proper treatment," Duarthon assured him, leading him outside. "She has lasted this long, after all."

Legolas nodded, but he only felt his anxiety grow. Now that he was not focused on healing her, he felt the full weight of her injuries hit him. It was amazing she was alive when they found her, and nothing short of miraculous that she had made it all the way to Rhosgobel. Her wounds were beyond anything he had seen before in a still-living creature. Some of the dead elves, laid out on sheets as they waited for their proper burial, didn't even look as bad as Dimoriel did, lying there on the wizard's kitchen table. He suddenly felt weak at the knees, and sat heavily on the root of a nearby tree. Duarthon, sensing his friend's need to be alone, gave the prince's shoulder a comforting squeeze before he made for the group of elves still digging grave sites out on the edge of the forest.

Sitting there by himself, Legolas watched his companions slowly digging in the earth, their faces solemn after the horrors they had seen the day before. The light of the morning sun was just starting to peak over the treetops, illuminating the river off in the distance. It was all too much for Legolas. He felt tears silently fall from his eyes, and he buried his face in his hands, letting the sorrow consume him.

* * *

Legolas woke suddenly, the afternoon sun on his face. He looked around and saw Mithrandir standing patiently next to him, waiting for him to wake. Legolas stood abruptly, eager to hear the news.

"She should be fine," Mithrandir said softly, smiling at the elf. "She is still unconscious as her body heals itself, but she should wake in a few days. I believe it is safe to move her, as long as you do not ride too hard. Her rib will take some time to heal and you don't want it doing more damage."

"Thank you, Mithrandir," Legolas said, his voice full of relief. He quickly walked past the wizard and reentered the house, his eyes immediately finding the elleth, now lying on the bed in a clean tunic, a blanket pulled up to her chest. Legolas sat on the edge of the bed, taking Dimoriel's hand in his, not caring about the elves whispering quietly behind him.

"We will have you home soon," he said softly, kissing her fingers and gently rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of her hand. "I promise, I will make sure nothing bad happens to you again. No more nightmares, no more wars. Just peace and quiet."

* * *

The elves departed Rhosgobel the next morning, heading north along the edge of the forest until they reached the forest path north of the mountains. They did not want to risk running into more wargs before they got the injured home. It had been a sad burial of their friends the previous night, the six fallen elves carefully laid to rest outside Rhosgobel.

It was slow going, with so many injured. Most had started healing quickly and were able to ride, but couldn't ride for more than a few hours without severe pain. Others were too injured to ride, and were carried in makeshift stretchers between pairs of horses. Legolas refused to let Dimoriel be carried this way, insisting on having her ride with him, despite the fact that she remained unconscious. When Duarthon pointed out that this might only cause more injury, he ignored the other elf's logic, stating that she would get more jostled riding between horses than on a horse.

When they were only a couple days' ride away from the palace, they settled down for the night, glad that they would soon be home. Legolas had not slept much since they left Rhosgobel, watching Dimoriel like a hawk, making sure she did not get worse as time went on, dutifully changing her bandages regularly. Duarthon thought he was acting a bit obsessive, especially when he refused Duarthon's offer to watch her so he could sleep. But as the relief of being so close to home washed over him, he finally drifted off to sleep, still sitting propped up next to Dimoriel as she lay on the ground next to the fire.

When he woke, the first thing he did was check on Dimoriel. The second thing he did was start panicking, as she was nowhere in sight.

"Relax, Legolas," Durathon said, coming over and pushing the prince back down as he tried to stand up. "She is fine. She woke during the night and went for a walk. She has been unconscious for nearly six days, you can't blame her for wanting to move around a little."

"Where did she go?" Legolas asked, with every intention of going after her.

"She is just a little ways ahead of us. Eat some breakfast. She will be back when she is ready."

Reluctantly, Legolas ate the bread and cheese Duarthon handed him. He kept his eyes on the path, waiting for Dimoriel to return. When she finally appeared, her cloak wrapped tightly around her as she slowly made her way towards the rest of the elves, Legolas sprang to his feet, hastily walking over to meet her.

"Are you alright?" he asked earnestly, refraining from pulling her into a hug in case such an action burst any of her stitches.

"I am fine," she said, looking up at him with a smile, though she looked tired. "Surprised I am alive, from what Duarthon told me."

"You don't remember anything?" Legolas asked, leading her over to the edge of the camp and carefully helping her to sit down. She accepted his assistance without complaint, her face screwed up in pain as she slowly eased onto the ground.

"I remember bits and pieces," she said, pulling her cloak tighter once more. "I remember the warg grabbing me by the shoulder and hurling me against the tree. I remember watching the last goblin suffer after I cut open his stomach, and then cutting off his head."

The nonchalant way she said this last part took Legolas by surprise, but he chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the warg part.

"The warg is what nearly got you. Between the blood loss and your broken rib, you could easily have died if not for Mithrandir."

"Where is he? I had hoped to thank him."

"He said he had business to the west," Legolas explained, watching Dimoriel closely. "Do you need anything? Food? Water? Rest?"

"I think I've rested enough," she said with a smile. Her face looked gaunt and still bore the scars of her recent brush with death, but he was glad to see that some of the softness had returned to her eyes.

"Well if you are ready, we can head out. You are riding with me, and I will hear no arguments."

"Duarthon told me I was not going to have a choice in the matter," Dimoriel said, watching him stand up again. The rest of the camp began packing up as well, getting ready to depart. "I assure you, I can ride."

"Your rib and shoulder say otherwise," Legolas said, taking care of his gear as Dimoriel waited to move. "I am not taking any chances."

"I don't suppose there is anything I can say to change your mind."

"Not a thing," Legolas said, finishing with his gear and returning for Dimoriel. "Come on, I promise I will make this as painless as possible."

For the rest of the day, even when they stopped to rest, Legolas refused to let Dimoriel get more than a few feet away from him. He hovered around her, anxiously making sure she wasn't in too much pain, or that she didn't need anything else to make her more comfortable. For her part, Dimoriel was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, patiently reassuring Legolas that she was fine every few minutes. Duarthon busied himself helping the other injured elves, knowing that the doting she was getting from Legolas was probably all Dimoriel could take. If it had been anyone else, he was sure she would have tried punching them, ripping her shoulder open again in the process.

When they stopped for the night, Legolas again refused to sleep, propping himself up next to Dimoriel instead. They talked for a little while before the elleth finally drifted off. Legolas watched her sleep for a long time before he eventually passed out a little after midnight. It wasn't until after he had fallen asleep that one of the elves approached Duarthon, who was sitting on the edge of the camp on watch for the next few hours.

"Lord Duarthon," the elf asked softly, sitting next to him. "I know it is not my business, but what is the relationship between Prince Legolas and Lady Dimoriel? I was watching her fight those wargs, and I have heard rumors about her that worry me."

"Don't believe everything you hear," Duarthon said with an encouraging smile at the young elf. "Prince Legolas feels responsible for Dimoriel after he convinced her to return from the mountains. As for those rumors, I am not sure what exactly you've heard, but it would be best not to bring it up in front of either Prince Legolas or Lady Dimoriel, particularly if it relates to her past. It is a sensitive topic and you would do well not to concern yourself with such things. Go to sleep. If we leave shortly after dawn we can make it to the palace before dark."

"Yes, my lord," the elf said, standing and returning to his place around one of the campfires. Duarthon sighed as his eyes returned to the darkness around him. Despite his reassurances, he was not at all certain about Legolas and Dimoriel. He too was worried about their relationship. Her brush with death had only seemed to make Legolas more determined to be a part of her life. He wasn't sure what was going to happen when they got back to the palace, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be easy for the two of them.


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14! You all are lucky this is finished already. I recently found out about National Novel Writing Month, so I have about 15 days to write a 50,000 word novel, so _I've Always Been Crazy_ may suffer slower updates as a result. Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

For the second time in two days, Legolas woke to find Dimoriel missing. This time, however, Sulinte was gone too.

Standing abruptly, he started packing quickly, intent on finding her.

"What's wrong?" Duarthon asked, sitting up groggily.

"Dimoriel's missing again."

"Let her be," Duarthon said with a sigh, massaging his eyes. "We are back in your father's realm and she is not going to go very far anyway. Calm down."

"She shouldn't be riding," Legolas insisted, continuing his packing. Duarthon looked around, apparently not expecting her to have taken Sulinte.

"Be happy she is feeling well enough to ride on her own," Duarthon said, standing up and stretching. "I still don't think she will have gone very far. She will meet up with us as soon as we depart, I am sure."

"Fine," Legolas said grudgingly, stopping his frantic and sloppy packing.

Sure enough, Dimoriel rode into camp just before they made to head out.

"Where did you ride off to?" Legolas asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"I wanted to see if riding would bother me at all. It isn't too bad. I can feel my rib and my shoulder is stiff, but that isn't just because of the riding."

"I am glad you are feeling better," Legolas said with a smile, though he seemed a little disappointed that she was healing so fast.

"As am I," Dimoriel said, watching him mount Caranghir.

They rode most of the day, stopping briefly for lunch. Everyone was eager to get home, so they agreed to continue on without another stop.

They were about an hour ride away from the palace when Dimoriel paused. While the rest of the guards kept riding, some of them looking at her curiously, Legolas turned Caranghir to look at her questioningly.

"I think I will just head home from here. I don't need to go all the way back to the palace just to come back this way." She started heading north, but Legolas galloped forward, placing Caranghir in her way on the path.

"I don't think so," he said firmly, his face set in a stubborn scowl. "You will do no such thing. You are going to the palace to have your injuries examined."

"But I am fine now, really," Dimoriel insisted, her eyes meeting his. "There is no need for me to bother the healers with my minor cuts and bruises."

"They are healers. That is what they are for. And your injuries are anything but minor. I will order you to return to the palace if I have to."

"But I am fine!" Dimoriel insisted, pulling her cloak tighter around herself, her face falling into a scowl just as stubborn as Legolas's.

"I will drag you there if I have to. You are not going home until someone looks at your injuries. Mithrandir said that your rib would need proper tending before it could heal normally."

Dimoriel continued scowling but turned her horse to follow the guards. Legolas rode behind her, making sure she didn't try and flee when he wasn't looking. As they came within sight of the palace shortly before nightfall, he rode up beside her, watching her eyes look up at the doors, fear evident in them.

"It will be alright," he said softly, dismounting and looking up at her. "I won't leave your side."

Dimoriel took a deep breath and dismounted, leaving one of the servants to take her horse to the stables for care. Legolas noticed her bite her lip against the pain as she moved abruptly, and he took her arm gently, making sure she didn't stumble.

"Come, we will get you patched up." Nodding, Dimoriel let him lead her inside. She gripped his arm tightly, her nervousness at being in the palace growing with every step she took. Gently, Legolas steered her to a side hall, taking the long way to the infirmary in order to avoid the most traffic. In reality, Legolas was most concerned that he would run into the King. The quickest way took them past the King's study, and he knew that running into Thranduil would be terrible for Dimoriel's nerves.

They reached the infirmary after passing through several deserted hallways. Legolas approached the nearest healer, Dimoriel still clinging to his arm.

"Prince Legolas, what can I do for you?"

"Lady Dimoriel has suffered some major injuries during our mission in the south, I am afraid," Legolas said, looking at the lady to his left. "She has a broken rib and a severely damaged shoulder, to name a few."

"Let me take a look," the healer said, leading them to a tiny room where she told Dimoriel to take off her cloak and have a seat. Hesitantly, Dimoriel slowly removed her cloak, with some help from Legolas. As soon as it was off, he gave a sharp intake of breath.

"I thought you said you were fine," he said, irritation mixed with worry as he looked at the bloody bandages around her shoulder. "You popped some of your stitches riding, didn't you?"

"Really, it isn't that bad," Dimoriel said, wincing as he gently touched her shoulder.

"I hope your rib didn't do any more damage either," he said, checking her side for signs of more blood. There didn't appear to be any, but there were a number of layers of linen that covered up the cuts and bruises."

"I will take care of her, Prince Legolas," the healer said softly, taking his arm and steering him towards the exit. "Unless you need care, I am afraid I must ask you to leave."

Legolas gave Dimoriel a look, apologizing silently for leaving her alone. Dimoriel smiled, letting him know that she would be alright for the moment. As the healer shut the door, he turned to leave. His father would be expecting a report and would not be happy to wait.

* * *

"What news?" King Thranduil asked as soon as Legolas entered his study, bowing his head respectfully.

"Dol Guldur has been freed from the Necromancer's dark magic," Legolas said firmly, eyes meeting his father's. "Mithrandir and Radagast entered the fortress as we fought off the hoards of dark servants that protected their master."

"The Necromancer?" Thranduil said, voice full of concern. "And they are sure he is defeated?"

"No, not defeated. He fled from them, according to Mithrandir. I believe the wizard thinks he will return. But for now, we have thinned the ranks of our foes to the south and the dark magic should be held at bay."

"How many lost?" Thranduil asked, turning towards his window and staring out over the treetops.

"Six. Many more are being treated by the healers. Those that fell were buried outside Rhosgobel."

"I am glad more were not lost. Will you and Duarthon inform the families?"

"Yes sir," Legolas said heavily. He hated this part of being in charge. Seeing the misery in the faces of family members when they are told their loved ones were not coming back broke his heart every time. He left quietly to complete his grim task.

"I would like a detailed report when you are done," Thranduil said, not turning around.

"Yes sir," Legolas repeated before the door shut behind him.

* * *

As soon as he was done with his sad task, Legolas went to check on Dimoriel. He had not been gone for long, but he was surprised at what he found.

"Prince Legolas, I am glad you're here. We've been having some trouble…"

"Is Dimoriel alright?" he asked in concern, worried she might have regressed after her blood loss that afternoon.

"That is a matter of opinion, I think," the healer said, her brow furrowed. "Come with me."

She led Legolas into the room where he had left Dimoriel, and found her brandishing a hot poker, backed into a corner by several healers.

"What do you think you're doing?" Legolas asked, horrified to see Dimoriel clutching a bloody cloth to her shoulder, the same one that was currently holding up the poker like a sword.

"Let me go home," she said angrily, aiming the poker at him as he came closer to her. "I will heal myself."

"We were trying to reset her rib, my lord," one of the healers said, fear creeping into her voice as the poker swung over towards her.

"Where did she get the poker?" he asked, not taking his eyes of the red hot end.

"We were going to cauterize her shoulder after setting her rib." Legolas sighed. He knew he shouldn't have left her here on her own.

"Dimoriel," he said slowly, getting ready to grab the poker from her if he got the chance. "You need proper healing. Calm down and let them fix your injuries."

"I don't need fixing. You shouldn't have brought me here."

"I shouldn't have left you alone, but you need to be here." One of the healers moved to Dimoriel's left, and her eyes quickly flickered away from Legolas, giving him the opening he needed to lunge forward, grabbing the middle of the poker. Dimoriel's eyes returned to him instantly as she tried to spin free, but as she moved, she let out a gasp of pain, letting go of the poker as her other hand gripped her shoulder tighter.

Legolas quickly caught her as she fell forward, hissing in pain, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Do you believe me now?" Legolas asked, taking her elbow and helping her stand back up as he handed the poker to one of the healers. He led her over to the bed, forcing her gently to sit down as the healers moved around the room, preparing for the extensive work they had ahead of them.

"I've been through worse," Dimoriel said, though she didn't fight back as Legolas picked up her ankles and swung her legs onto the bed.

"I certainly hope not," he said, putting his hand on her good shoulder and forcing her back onto the bed. "Any worse than this, and you'd have been dead. You never should have made it this far." Legolas moved out of the way as one of the healers came up to the bed, moving the light shirt Dimoriel wore out of the way so she could see the damaged rib. It was not glaringly evident, but Legolas could tell that it was not in the right spot.

"This is going to hurt," the healer said, looking up at Dimoriel, who closed her eyes, gripping the bed sheets. Kneeling next to the bed, Legolas took one of her hands and held it in his. As the healer pushed on the rib, Dimoriel arched her back, letting out a high-pitched scream. It was over in a moment, and Dimoriel opened her eyes, gasping in pain as she squeezed Legolas's hand tightly.

"It's alright, she's done," Legolas said, looking down at the rib, now in the right spot as the healer covered her side once more.

"That hurts more than it did getting picked up and thrown against the tree in the first place," Dimoriel said, wincing. Legolas smiled.

"I'm sure it does. I didn't get to see the worst of it, but you had the bloodlust. I am sure that's the only way you lasted as long as you did with these wounds."

"I need to cauterize your shoulder now, my lady," the healer said hesitantly, looking down at Dimoriel. Dimoriel looked up at her, then at Legolas. Carefully, she sat up and pulled her shoulder out of her shirt, exposing the reopened wound. The healer held out a small strip of wood.

"Bite this. I know your rib hurt, but this is going to be worse. It is going to take a bit longer to cauterize the whole thing."

Dimoriel took the piece of wood hesitantly before she put it in her mouth, gritting it between her teeth.

"Prince Legolas, if you would hold her down please." Legolas let go of Dimoriel's hand, reaching across her chest to hold down her other arm, pinning her uninjured shoulder to the bed. He met her eyes as she looked up at him fearfully.

"It will be over soon," he said softly, looking up at the healer as she grabbed the poker out of the bed of coals where it had been placed. Bracing himself for a fight, Legolas watched the hot poker as it made contact with Dimoriel's skin. She let out another scream, muffled slightly by the strip of wood in her mouth. She writhed in pain as the healer moved onto another patch of skin, which sizzled as the poker made contact. Dimoriel kept screaming and writhing in pain as the healer continued.

Legolas bit his own lip, fighting to keep the elleth still as the healer cauterized the warg bite. She was almost done when Dimoriel finally passed out from the pain, going limp beneath Legolas's grip. He let go as the healer finished, turning away to go fetch bandages for the shoulder. Legolas took the piece of wood out of Dimoriel's mouth and brushed her sweaty hair from her forehead as he continued kneeling beside her bed.

"You'll be alright now," he said softly, brushing his knuckles against the scars on her cheek. Before he could think better of it, he kissed her forehead and stood, looking up as the healer reentered the room with her arms full of clean bandages.

"I think I can handle the rest now, Prince Legolas," she said with a soft smile. "She will be out for a while, but you are welcome to come back later tonight and check on her."

"Thank you," Legolas said, looking down at Dimoriel once more before walking towards the exit. He still hadn't been back to his quarters to change since coming home. A bath and some clean clothes, and he would be ready to face the lengthy interrogation from his father over dinner.

* * *

"Hopefully this means the warg sightings will cease as they crawl back into the depths of the south," Thranduil said with a sigh. "I am glad it is over, but I am worried about what Mithrandir said."

"It may be many centuries before his return," Legolas said, picking up his goblet and taking a sip of wine. "We must keep a watchful eye on the fortress for new activity, though."

"I agree," Thranduil said, resting his elbows on the table and folding his fingers under his chin. "It will be necessary to make regular visits south. I will discuss this more with you later. I am sure you both are tired." He looked around at Duarthon who had not said much during dinner. "You have had a long week."

"We are glad to be back," Duarthon said with a polite smile. He and Legolas began standing, thinking they were dismissed, but Thranduil wasn't done.

"What of Lady Dimoriel? You failed to mention her part in the journey."

"She scouted ahead most of the way down," Legolas said, returning to his seat, wary of his father's curiosity. "And she fought ferociously in the battle outside Dol Guldur. Only with the wizards' healing was she able to survive the trip here to be tended by healers."

"Yes, I heard about the incident earlier," Thranduil said, watching his son carefully. "She could have injured those healers."

"She was not having a fit, ada. Her rib was broken and her shoulder was badly torn by a warg bite. She was uncomfortable being in the palace in the first place, and the pressure and pain of healing made her nervous."

"Very well. You may go." Legolas stood once more, Duarthon following suit. "Not you, Duarthon, I would like a word."

Puzzled, Duarthon settled back into his seat, glancing at Legolas before the other elf disappeared into the hallway, leaving Duarthon alone with the king.

Duarthon sat quietly, waiting for the king to say something. Thranduil stared at his goblet for a while, looking like he had forgotten Duarthon was there.

"My lord?" he asked hesitantly after a minute of silence.

"What is the relationship between my son and Lady Dimoriel?" the king asked finally, looking up at Duarthon with his piercing blue eyes. Not entirely sure how to answer this question, Duarthon shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment, thinking about how to respond.

"I think they have become quite close in the past month," Duarthon said evasively.

"Legolas seems to have very strong feelings for the lady."

"I don't think Prince Legolas knows what he feels for Dimoriel," Duarthon replied honestly.

"Be frank with me, Duarthon," Thranduil said, his eyes boring into Duarthon's. "Do you think he loves her?"

"I think," Duarthon said slowly, "it is only a matter of time before Prince Legolas comes to that conclusion."

* * *

At that moment, Legolas was checking up on Dimoriel, who had woken up from her most recent trauma.

"Are you feeling any better?" he asked, sitting next to her on the bed as she sat upright, eating a small pasty he had brought up for her, along with some tea and an apple.

"I feel like my entire arm is numb, and my rib is still throbbing," she said with a sigh, looking down at her many bandages. "When will I finally be allowed to go home?"

"I would get comfortable if I were you," Legolas said with a smile. "Nestantiel says you will be confined to bed for at least another four days while your rib and shoulder mend."

"Four days?!" she said incredulously. "I will not stay bedridden for four days. I was unconscious for almost six. That is enough rest for me."

"Complain all you want, but you are not going anywhere until those wounds heal properly. You made them worse by riding around, so now they will take longer to heal."

"You can't keep me here," she said, scowling up at him.

"Oh yes I can. I will assign guards to watch you if you start causing trouble. You will never make it out of the palace without getting caught."

"I think that's a challenge," Dimoriel said fiercely, a wicked smirk on her face. "I will get out of here."

"I will be sure to let the healers know of your intentions then," Legolas said, smiling pleasantly back at her. "They will lock you in here except when someone comes to check on you or change your bandages."

"So I'm a prisoner?"

"If you are going to try to escape, yes. You are a prisoner until you heal. It is only four days. If you do not strain yourself and actually improve in that time, you may get to go home. If you fight and make it worse, you will only make yourself have to stay longer."

"This is ridiculous," Dimoriel said, looking at her teacup like she wanted to throw it. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"And yet you are acting like a child who has not gotten her way," Legolas pointed out. "You will survive. I will come visit you when I can over the next few days."

"To keep me out of trouble," Dimoriel said huffily.

"We are not going through this again, are we?" Legolas said, giving her a scolding look. "Now try and get some sleep. You look tired."

He stood to go, but he looked back at Dimoriel as she grabbed his hand.

"Will you stay?" she said softly, her frustration from a moment ago gone. "At least until I fall asleep?"

"If you would like me to," he said, sitting back down with a smile. "If it will help, I will sing for you as well."

"I would like that," Dimoriel said softly, settling back against her pillows. His hand still in Dimoriel's, Legolas began to sing softly, watching Dimoriel as she started drifting off. More than anything, he was glad she was healing properly, safe in the palace. For the next few days at least, he would be able to visit her regularly, perhaps taking a meal or two in the infirmary. He hadn't really known her that long, but he wasn't sure what he would have done if she had died of her wounds. All he knew for sure was that feeling her hand warm in his and watching her chest rise and fall as she breathed slowly in her sleep, he felt at peace. Despite everything she had put him through, he was glad she was there with him.


	15. Chapter 15

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* * *

Despite Legolas's assurances, he did not get to visit Dimoriel very often over the next few days. Thranduil had him knee-deep in the harvest, which the kingdom was anxiously trying to finish before the first snows came. Multiple times, he was sent out to meet shipments and ensure they were properly transported and documented, necessitating extended periods of time away from the palace. Legolas was only able to visit Dimoriel late at night, when everything had slowed down for the day, and he was exhausted from the effort.

Legolas didn't mind being sent away from the palace, enjoying the crisp autumn air. But once his father started sending him on missions that had nothing to do with the harvest, Legolas grew suspicious.

"When you are finished in the cellars, I would like you to ride south. There have been complaints of a downed tree on one of the main paths north that needs to be moved."

"A downed tree?" Legolas asked skeptically. "Wouldn't you rather have me here working on harvest reports?"

"Shipments come first, then you can worry about the full reports," Thranduil said, not looking up from his desk where he was reviewing letters arriving from various parts of the kingdom.

"This isn't about the shipments, is it?" Legolas asked, eyes narrowed as he watched his father carefully. "You don't want me in the palace."

"Why wouldn't I want you here?" Thranduil asked evenly, still not looking up.

"Before the attack on Dol Guldur, you were giving me all manner of work in the palace to keep me busy. Now, you are assigning me tasks anywhere but in the palace. Is this about Lady Dimoriel?"

"What do you mean?" Thranduil said casually, ignoring the glare from his son.

"You are trying to keep me away from her, aren't you?" Legolas said accusingly. Thranduil finally looked up, his face calm as he looked into the angry eyes of the prince.

"I didn't realize it mattered to you so much," Thranduil said slowly, watching Legolas's reaction carefully. "Is there anything you would like to tell me?"

"No," Legolas said, sensing a trap. "But I did promise to check up on her, since she is uncomfortable staying here. I haven't had much of a chance since I have been away so much."

"Hmm, well if you get everything done quickly you can go visit her later," Thranduil said, his eyes returning to his desk.

"Very well," Legolas said with a sigh, leaving his father's study. Instead of heading straight to the cellars, he made a detour to the infirmary, where he found Dimoriel pacing nervously, muttering to herself.

"Feeling better then?" he asked as he stood in the doorway, smiling at her. She looked up, a pained look on her face.

"My wounds are better, but I can't take another day stuck in this dull, empty room. _Please_, let me leave."

"What did Nestantiel say?"

"She says I am not going anywhere unless someone watches me to make sure I don't strain anything," she said, sitting down on the bed in a pout. However, Legolas saw this as an opportunity.

"If you need someone to watch you, I think I can arrange that."

"I don't want a babysitter," Dimoriel said sourly, folding her arms across her chest. "I just need to get out of here."

"How about if I take you south this afternoon on a short ride? My father is sending me to deal with a tree that has blocked a major thoroughfare north, and I would be glad of your company."

"Yes!" Dimoriel said, leaping to her feet. "Anything to get out of this place."

"I have work to do in the cellars until about noon, but I will return after that and we can leave. Do you have any other clothes?" he asked, noticing she was still in a light gown given to her by the healers.

"Lithiril stopped by yesterday and brought me some things. I think there is a tunic in there somewhere," she said, going over to her leather bag and starting to dig through it. "Ah, here it is."

"Excellent. I will be back later to get you."

"Thank you," Dimoriel said, immense relief in her voice. Legolas just shook his head and left the room, smile still on his face as he made for the cellars.

* * *

When he came back to collect her, Legolas found Nestantiel standing outside her door, arms folded.

"Is something wrong?" Legolas asked, confused by the healer's apparent irritation.

"I am not sure you should be letting Lady Dimoriel leave quite yet," Nestantiel said firmly. "I told her she could leave her room under supervision, not leave the palace."

"I will keep her from hurting herself," Legolas assured the elleth calmly. "I think you will have more problems if you don't let her leave. I will keep a close eye on her, don't worry."

"Where are you going?"

"Only about an hour ride south to remove a tree that has blocked the path," Legolas said patiently.

"She is not to do any riding by herself. That's how she tore her shoulder last time. And she is not to help you, just observe."

"Of course, my lady," Legolas said, bowing his head. "I will be sure she behaves."

"Thank the Valar," Dimoriel said, whipping her door open. She was dressed in a brown riding outfit, which looked slightly lopsided thanks to all the bandages she wore under her tunic.

"You are going to hurt your shoulder again if you keep that up," Nestantiel said in a stern motherly tone. "Stop moving it so aggressively."

"Yes, Nestantiel," Dimoriel sighed, stepping out of the room slowly and shutting the door behind her.

"As I was telling Prince Legolas, you are not to do any riding on your own. I would prefer you didn't do any riding, but I think that is impractical so I shall relent as long as you promise not to put any stress on that shoulder."

"I promise," Dimoriel said anxiously. "Can we go now?"

"I mean it," Nestantiel said as she followed Legolas out the door. "I will know if you do!"

"You are going to let me ride Sulinte, right?" Dimoriel asked as they made their way out to the stables. Legolas was surprised that she did not even seem to care about the dozens of elves they passed on the way. Her desire to escape apparently outweighed her anxiety of being around people.

"Absolutely not," he said casually, strolling into the stables towards Caranghir's stall. "I am under orders."

"You are a prince," Dimoriel scoffed. "Nestantiel can't order you around."

"Be that as it may, she is the healer, not me, so I will follow her advice. And seeing as I am a prince," he said, turning towards Dimoriel as he reached Caranghir. "I will take the opportunity to order you to behave yourself and follow her orders." Dimoriel scowled darkly as she watch Legolas take the red stallion out of his stall, already saddled and bridled.

"That is not fair," she said, her grey-green eyes burning as she glared at him.

"Life is rarely fair," Legolas said calmly, walking around Caranghir towards her. "Are you going to complain the whole way? Because I can change my mind and leave you here."

"Fine," Dimoriel said in defeat. "But I am still not happy about this."

"I am sure," Legolas replied. Before she could argue further, he picked her up by the waist and put her on Caranghir's back, climbing up behind her as she swung her right leg over to straddle the horse's back comfortably. She tried to take the reins, but Legolas quickly reached around her to remove them from her hands, making her scowl again.

"Stop being difficult," he scolded. "This is going to be much more painful if you fight me the whole way."

"Alright, alright," she sighed, slouching in the saddle as Legolas urged the stallion forward. She didn't talk to him for several minutes, choosing to sit in moody silence. Legolas let her brood. Despite her apparent determination to complain, she gave it up after they reached the woods, leaving the palace and the hustle and bustle around it behind.

"So why exactly is your father making you go move a tree?" she asked finally, breaking the silence.

"I have several theories," Legolas said, though he was pretty sure he knew which one was accurate. "For now, I am just glad I am not stuck in the cellars counting barrels anymore. Be glad your prison is temporary. I have to do this sort of thing multiple times a year, every year."

"Another reason to be a hermit," she said matter-of-factly. "No responsibility for the affairs of others."

"That didn't stop you helping us scout in the south, or attack Dol Guldur," Legolas pointed out.

"That was by choice. I didn't feel any obligation to help. You would have wandered for weeks looking for Radagast without my help, and I had selfish reasons to want the Necromancer out of Dol Guldur."

"I don't understand you sometimes, Dimoriel," Legolas said softly. "One minute you want nothing to do with people, the next you just want to be a part of something."

"I am not sure I can explain it either," Dimoriel confessed after a moment's pause. "I think it is just the old me and the new me fighting for dominance. I use to be involved in the world, wanting to be a part of something bigger. That's why I went to Gondor in the first place. But after the wars, I just didn't fit anywhere. I am just an extra puzzle piece, I guess. I can fit in a number of places for a time, but eventually I will be forced out when the right piece is found."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right place yet," Legolas said, glancing at her as they continued riding.

"Maybe," she said cryptically before falling silent again.

* * *

Upon reaching the downed tree, Legolas slid off Caranghir, taking in the situation.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, holding up his hand to stop Dimoriel as she started dismounting.

"Getting down?" she asked, confused by his question.

"I think you should stay there. It will keep you from being tempted to do anything you shouldn't."

"Really?" Dimoriel asked, raising her eyebrow at him. "You think I should stay on a horse, by myself, giving me the opportunity to ride off wherever I want, leaving you here?" Legolas was silent, realizing what she was saying, before sighing, holding out his hands to help her down.

"Very well. But you are going to go sit down and behave."

"You keep talking to me like I'm an infant," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders and letting him help her down. "I am capable of sitting still for more than half a minute, you know."

"I will believe it when I see it," Legolas said, leading her over to a rock next to the road. "Sit."

Dimoriel rolled her eyes, but sat down, folding her arms across her chest as Legolas got started.

It wasn't a particularly big tree, but it had many branches strewn across the path. Legolas brought out an ax and began chopping them off one by one, throwing the severed limbs in a pile on the side of the road.

He was just about to take another swing at a branch when he heard a loud hiss. Looking around, he saw Dimoriel bent double, still sitting on the rock, but her eyes were closed in pain. It was quickly evident what had happened.

"I think she missed you," Legolas said, watching Lendis land on a nearby branch, since she had quickly been denied her usual position on Dimoriel's shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"I'd think the bandages would have helped, but that was decidedly unpleasant," she said, holding her shoulder. "I guess it will be a while before she can do that again."

"She didn't break skin, did she?" Legolas asked, putting down the ax and coming over to Dimoriel, worried to see Dimoriel still wincing in pain.

"No, but her talon hit the sensitive skin around the wound," Dimoriel said, taking a deep breath. "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Legolas asked, his blue eyes full of concern as he crouched down in front of Dimoriel, his hand on her good shoulder.

"I am sure," she said, giving him a small smile as her eyes met his. After searching her eyes to make sure she was being honest with him, he stood, returning to his work.

Dimoriel just watched in silence as he finished cutting off the branches from the tree. She didn't know why, but she felt calm and happy just watching his rhythmic movement and listening to the pounding of the axe into the wood. Even watching him hook up Caranghir to the log, his thin fingers deftly tying the leather straps around the silver buckles on the saddle, seemed fascinating. As the horse pulled and the prince pushed the log off to the side of the path, she felt a fluttering in her chest. The strange feeling broke her trance and she quickly looked down at her shoes. She was unsure what that sudden stirring in her chest had meant, but she didn't like it.

"Dimoriel?" Legolas asked, noticing her intense concentration on her shoes as he stood, the tree successfully removed from the path.

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up at him as if startled out of deep thoughts.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing the odd look on her face.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About what?" Legolas asked as he started unhooking Caranghir from the tree.

"Having to go back to the infirmary and getting a lecture from Nestantiel," she lied easily.

"I don't think any of us could have predicted Lendis would try to alight on your shoulder," Legolas said with a smile, his eyes on a silver buckle. "It isn't your fault."

"She will try and make it my fault though," Dimoriel said, standing up to help untie the leather straps. That at least she could do.

"I'll be sure to let her know the truth," Legolas said, glancing over the stallion's back at Dimoriel. "We can't have you getting into trouble without actually deserving it."

"That is rude," Dimoriel said, scowling up at him as he smiled pleasantly back. "I never deserve it." This made Legolas laugh as he came around Caranghir to undo the last strap, standing next to Dimoriel as she finished the one she was working on.

"I think you almost always deserve it. I honestly am impressed to have seen you sit so quietly for the last hour while I worked on this."

"It would have taken a lot less time if I could have helped," she said, watching him pick up the straps and put them in a saddlebag.

"I never would have let you do that, even if I wasn't under Nestantiel's orders. You would have made your shoulder worse again, necessitating even longer time in the infirmary."

"Do you know how maddening it is to be this useless?" Dimoriel asked, crossing her arms angrily. She let out a gasp of surprise as Legolas once again picked her up by the waist, putting her on Caranghir's back before climbing up. She felt the strange tug at her heart again as she felt him settle into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist as he took the reins.

"I understand your frustration, but it has not even been a week yet. Take the time to relax and be glad you aren't busy with the harvest."

"I am use to being self-sufficient, Legolas," she said tartly, trying to hide her odd emotional turmoil that only seemed to be increasing the more she fought it. "I don't take time to relax. I have work to do every day. A few hours of music or reading, perhaps, but not days and days of nothingness."

"Soon enough you will be free. Nestantiel may let you go tomorrow evening if she thinks you are doing well enough."

"I look forward to it immensely."


End file.
